


Upper Class Woman

by Dark_and_night



Category: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre (Movies)
Genre: F/M, First Meetings, TW: Blood
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-04
Updated: 2020-08-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:02:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 19
Words: 24,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23475109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_and_night/pseuds/Dark_and_night
Summary: You inherited a large portion of the meat packing company Thomas works at.
Relationships: Leatherface | Thomas Brown Hewitt/You, Thomas Brown Hewitt/reader
Comments: 56
Kudos: 404





	1. Chapter 1

The whole town had been buzzing for a while, ever since the death of one of the founders of the meat packing company. He had few family relations left, and fewer still he could tolerate. It was said that his share would go to a young relative of his who lived in a big city somewhere. The city itself changed as the rumors spread. From New York, to Chicago, to St. Louis, to LA, to whichever other city that the residents could think of off of the top of their heads.

What only made the circulating rumors more cutthroat, was that the relative was a young woman. Sometimes she was a niece, or a third cousin, or even an illegitimate daughter. Her appearance constantly changed as well, depending on which townsperson was asked. Going from being a beautiful debutant to the ugliest thing you’ve ever seen in your life after that Thomas boy. 

The gossip only became meaner as time went on, as the day she was supposed to come by and see the company drew nearer. There wasn’t much else for the people to do but make up stories to entertain themselves, so by the time you finally stepped foot in the town, much of the populace had already grown to hate you. 

Thomas didn’t care about the rumors. He just wanted to do his work, earn his living. He didn’t care who owned the majority of the place as long as he could still be useful to his family. On the day you showed up, he was busy cutting meat, as he always did, facing the wall as best he could, as he always was. The rest of the factory was focused on you.

You stepped into the building, immediately being greeted by a grouchy old man with glasses. You introduced yourself, shaking his hand and looking around. You’d never been in charge of anything before, and now you were the major shareholder in a meat packing plant in a town you had never even heard of. You weren’t sure what to do, what was expected of you, or even which way was up, anymore. All you wanted was for things to go back to normal, to sell off your share and be rid of this strange new responsibility once and for all.

You had decided on wearing slacks (though you realized that the people of this small town might not appreciate that when you hadn’t seen a single woman not wearing a dress) and a crisp white button up shirt. Your hair was styled sensibly, and you decided on just a simple gold chain necklace. You wanted to seem professional, but not snooty.

Too bad for you, everyone had already drawn all the conclusions that they had about you before they even had the chance to meet you. 

The plant manager showed you around, and you held your breath, keeping your face a neutral mask. The blood and smell made you want to vomit, as did the sight of all the dead animals being butchered. 

He spoke harshly, pointing at things around the plant as if he’d rather be jabbing his finger in your eye. 

“And that’s everything.” He seemed to constantly be snapping, even when he wasn’t saying anything worth snapping about. “Explore if you want. Just stay out of the way of the men.” He quickly turned and stormed off, glad to be done with you.

Nodding, you looked around, unsure of what to do with yourself. 

“Hey, missy.” One of the workers called.

Frowning at the nickname, you walked over. “Yes?”

“Liking the plant?” The man grinned. “Learning about our simple ways?”

“I’ve certainly learned a lot about meat processing today.” You said, looking around. The man was standing by a live pig that was hanging from the ceiling by its back legs. The pig wasn’t struggling, and you saw that the man was holding an electric cattle prod. He must have just used that on the pig.

“Yeah, yeah, learning a lot.” His grin looked mean. “Good. Did you know that pigs are eighty percent blood?”

The man grabbed a knife, slitting the pig’s throat, blood pouring from the wound, the blood splattering all over your clothes and your shoes, and you screamed in surprise.

Your scream was drowned out by the man and several other workers laughing wickedly at your expense. 

Thomas glanced over, raising his eyebrow at the sight. Vaguely he remembered that the much spoken of heiress was supposed to be visiting today. Well, you certainly seemed to be having a hell of a time of it. Thomas turned back to his task, ignoring the cruel laughter of others. He was used to doing that.

You wiped blood off your face as the laughter died down. 

Composing yourself, you straightened your back, giving the man a charming smile. “Actually, I’ve learned that that fact is actually false.”

Turning on your heel, you hurried to the manager’s office to find that the manager was, in fact, nowhere to be found. You grabbed the cleanest rag you could find, wiping off your face, trying your best not to cry. 

That was where you spent the remainder of the day, waiting for the manager to come back. But he never did. You sat in his chair, getting blood stains on it, watching as the workers slowly went home, one by one. You realized that the manager had abandoned you there.

Groaning, you stood, searching around for any kind of cleaning supplies. You gathered up several clean rags, a mop and a bucket, setting off onto the floor. 

You set the bucket down, squeezing out the mop and getting to work cleaning the floor. While you mopped, you heard something. Rhythmic, even, chopping sounds. The sound sent a shiver down your spine. Though you knew where you were, and that sound was commonplace in a meat packaging plant, you were supposed to be alone. 

Holding up the mop, you shuffled around, listening your way to the source of the sound. 

A large man was still at his chopping block, cutting away at some meat. He seemed to almost be in a trance, so stuck in his work he didn’t realize that the sun was setting. 

“Excuse me?” You said softly, holding the broom tighter. The man continued chopping, oblivious to your presence. 

You inched closer, gathering up all your courage and speaking up again. “Sir?”

The man raised his head, looking up at you. 

Jumping and holding the broom up, his appearance made you yelp in surprise. He was wearing a strange mask that covered the entire lower half of his face. 

Thomas didn’t react, as he was pretty much used to people reacting that way once they saw him.

You shook your head, collecting yourself. “I-I’m sorry for that reaction, I’m new, and, I wasn’t expecting…”

The man nodded, slamming his cleaver into table, making you jump once again. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt, but the workday is over, sir.” You said, lowering the mop. Your mind whirled as you tried to think of anything else to say to this man. He was just staring at you. Vaguely, you remembered the manager warning you of a dangerous man named Thomas.

“Mister Thomas?” You said timidly.

Thomas raised his eyebrow. Never in his life had be been called ‘sir’ or ‘mister’ before. He nodded, looking out the window. It was late. He had been too into his work to stop, and of course no one had warned him of the time. 

“I’m sorry.” You said again. “I would have warned you, but I didn’t know you were back here.”

Thomas gestured to the mop, tilting his head slightly.

“Oh, I thought I’d clean.” You explained, walking back to the bucket. 

Thomas followed you, watching you curiously. 

You dunked you mop back in the bucket, wringing it out and getting started on the floor. “I wanted to sell my share, but your manager told me this place is the heart of the town. So instead, I want to help make it better.”

Thomas leaned on the wall, crossing his arms. Everything you were saying seemed to make sense, for the most part.

“This place wouldn’t pass a health inspector test, that’s for sure.” You rambled, incredibly aware of the large man watching you. He didn’t seem dangerous, but he was still a man you didn’t know. Which meant that, by default, he was dangerous. “And your co-workers are mean.” You added.

Thomas chuckled; you caught on quick. He pushed himself off the wall, heading for the exit, leaving you to clean. 

You watched his back, in awe of how large he was. The blood that ran up and down his arms made you shiver.

“Mister Thomas?” You called. 

Thomas stopped, slowly turning to look at you. He glared at you, tense and ready for whatever cruelty you had ready for him. 

“You can’t go home to your family looking like that.” You smiled, grabbing a rag and walking over to him, holding out your hand.

Thomas stared down at your hand, glancing back up to you. He would have thought that you were making some sort of comment on his face, but your open, pleasant look said otherwise.

“Well, give me your hand.” You said simply.

Thomas eyed you, hesitantly raising his hand and resting it in your palm. 

You took his hand, gently running the clean rag over his fingers. “Can’t have you going home all messy.” You murmured, carefully, rubbing his hand until it was all clean, running the rag over his forearm. 

His heart raced as you cleaned his arm. You were being so careful, as if he was fragile. Your hands were warm as you cleaned him, and he obediently gave you his other hand when you asked for it, watching in awe as you gave it the same treatment. 

You ignored the scars on his arms as you cleaned him, frowning as you found a stain you were having trouble getting off. 

“I’m going to scrub a little harder, okay?” You glanced up at him. He nodded slowly, letting you scrub his arm of the blood until he was clean.

His chest tightened as you looked up at him, smiling in accomplishment. “Isn’t that better?” You asked.

Thomas nodded slightly, unable to tear his eyes from you.

You looked at the sweat on his forehead, and at the splattered blood that resided there as well. Folding the rag to a clean corner, you raised it to his face.

Thomas flinched away at the action, backing up.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly. “Your face is dirty too, so I thought…”

Breathing out a shuttering breath, Thomas knelt slightly, adverting his eyes.

You smiled, gently dabbing at his face. “Sorry if I’m overstepping. I worked as a maid for a long time, I’m used to keeping things tidy.” You said lowly, as if you were telling a grand secret.

Thomas shook his head, closing his eyes as you cleaned his face.

“There you go.” You whispered, pulling away. “All ready to sit at the dinner table with your family.”

Thomas rose to full height, nodding slightly. He felt warm, like he used to when his mother held him when he was a child. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had cared for him so meticulously, or tenderly. He thought he must have outgrown it. Evidently, he was wrong.

“Have a good night, mister Thomas.” You gave him one last smile before turning back to your self-appointed chores. 

He nodded absent mindedly, walking out of the building, unable to shake the tingling feeling that lingered on his skin where you had touched him.


	2. Asleep

You felt your body shaking slightly, and it brought you back to consciousness. Opening your eyes slightly you saw a man’s face inches from yours. You screamed, nearly falling back, if Thomas hadn’t wrapped an arm around you, holding you in place.

Looking around quickly, you realized you had fallen asleep on a stool, leaning on the mop you had been cleaning with. If Thomas hadn’t wrapped his arm around you, you would have fallen onto the concrete floor.

“Mister Thomas!” You laughed, shaking your head. He slowly pulled away, now that he knew you were fully awake and no longer a danger to yourself.

“God, this is embarrassing.” You laughed more, standing and putting the mop against the wall. “This is the second time I’ve screamed in your face.” You pointed at him. “I promise I’ll stop doing that, by the way.”

Thomas smirked slightly to himself. You’d probably scream every time you looked at him. Well, at least you weren’t asleep on the stool anymore. He turned to walk to his station when you spoke up again.

“Are you always the first one here?” You asked.

He turned back to you, nodding slightly.

You smiled. “First one in and last one out. How are you not employee of the month?”

He shrugged slightly, giving you a quizzical look. You were still in your blood-stained clothes from the night before, your hair frizzy and out of the style of the day before. Obviously, you had worked all through the night. 

The fluttering feeling that Thomas had tried so hard to forget the night before came back to him when he saw you. Even covered in old blood, even tired and groggy, you were smiling at him in exactly the same way you had the night before. As if he were anyone else.

“You know, I’m really glad you found me sleeping there instead of one of your co-workers.” You smiled, re-tucking in your shirt. “One of them would probably have knocked me over.”

Thomas raised his eyebrows in a ‘yeah, probably’ way, tiling his head a bit for emphasis. 

Walking in a small circle, you spread your arms wide, grinning proudly. “Doesn’t the floor look so much better, Mister Thomas?”

He looked at the floor, finally noticing it for the first time. It practically shown with how clean it had become. It was a shame, by the end of the day, it would look about the same as it had before you had worked so hard on it. 

He nodded, looking back at you. 

You clapped your hands together excitedly. “This is just the beginning! I might still sell my share, but not before making sure that this place is in good hands. I noticed that this place just kind of seems…gross. I’m worried about the quality of the meat.”

You got closer, making Thomas back up a reflexively. 

“Mister Thomas, do you know, you know, do you remember the last time any of the equipment in this place was cleaned?” You asked.

He frowned, thinking back on it. As far as he was aware, almost nothing here ever got cleaned. But that was to be expected, right? It would only get dirty again. 

“Actually, sorry if this is rude, but, can you talk?” You said suddenly.

Thomas shook his head, backing up again. You were making him nervous.

“Do you know sign language?” You pressed.

He shook his head again.

“Well, that’s fine, I don’t either, so that was pretty much pointless to ask.” Sighing, you walked in a small circle, clicking your tongue. “Charades!”

He chuckled slightly out of surprise, your apparent never-ending energy amazing him. You had been passed out cold only a minute earlier, and now here you were grilling Thomas like anyone ever expected him to know much of anything.

“Okay, first, has it been months?” You asked.

Thomas shook his head.

Your eyes widened. “Years?”

He nodded, thinking back on the last time someone did anything more than clean the floor. He held up his hand, remembering the last time someone cleaned was around the same time he had decided to cut off a bit of his cheek. Before it could fall off on its own.

“Five years?” You cried. “Oh god, we have to change things around here. Is there a town library?”

“Hey, you!” The two of you turned to see the manager, storming to you, his face red. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You frowned. “I was cleaning.”

“We don’t need any big-town harlots coming in here and changing how things are run.” He snapped, stopping just in front of you, looking you up and down with distain. “Now, stop trying to get the slow guy to talk bad about our operation. It won’t work, he’s mute anyway.”

You frowned deeper, putting your hands on your hips. “For your information, I was enjoying Mister Thomas’ company.”

He snorted, grabbing your arm. “‘Mister’? He’s barely even a person.”

“Let me go!” You snapped, shaking out of his grip. “I own most of this place, so this ‘harlot’ is your boss. So you better get a fake smile on that face before I make you regret waking up this morning.”

The manager grimaced, looking away. He had lost, and he knew it.

You turned to Thomas, giving him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry about him, Mister Thomas. I should go anyway, I need to change. Hopefully, I’ll see you again soon.” You gave him a small wave, walking toward the exit. With bloody clothes, messy hair, and smudged makeup, you walked like a god of victory, Thomas’ manager glaring down your back as if he wanted you dead.

Thomas turned away from the sight of you, walking to his chopping block and getting his day started.


	3. Gas Station

You walked through your motel room, a towel around your hair and a second around your body, the stench of old blood still seeming to follow you around. So far, the town had left a bad impression on you, you couldn’t deny that. But you had seen how disgusting the plant was, it wouldn’t last if left to its own devices. And no matter how much you freaking hated the manager you’d met, or how nasty the workers had been to you, you couldn’t just let a whole town die because everyone seemed to hate you for some reason.

Pretty much everyone you had met sucked so far, except for that Thomas man, even if he was a little strange. At least he didn’t hate you. 

Your mind lingered on him as you got dressed. A silent man who wears a mask to work. It didn’t seem medicinal, but maybe he wore it so he could be to block out the smell of blood and meat. Well, either way, you liked him. 

You decided to wear a dress out and about this time, seeing as everyone’s first impression of you in pants seemed to be not super great. You put your hair up in a bun, setting out into the small town. 

The sun was hot, and you instantly started to sweat. A few people were out, milling about in the Texas heat. Several people glared at you as you walked past, but you held your head high. You weren’t sure if they were glaring because they didn’t know you, or because they knew of you. 

A woman gaining control of a meat packaging plant had raised eyebrows back home, so you could only imagine how much these people resented you here. They probably thought you were completely inept and unable to run a company. Well, that was completely correct, but it wasn’t like you couldn’t learn. And as your mother always said, it was either get married and have babies or be a sad spinster secretary. 

Well, you for sure didn’t want kids, or some guy controlling the money. So, instead of being the triple S (sad spinster secretary) you’d get to be an ACOWDWSWBSDHSHTHWTD (awesome company owner who does what she wants because she doesn’t have a stupid husband telling her what to do). 

Well, much like your mother, this town seemed to still have the mindset of the early fifties. And in a traditional town like this, you probably represented everything that these people hated.

The sun heated up your skin, and dust picked up, creating a film on your clothes and skin. Your hair had never completely dried from your shower, and the moisture from the shower mixed with your sweat, frizzing your hair in an unflattering way. 

You tried to flag down a car for directions, but it drove past you, picking up more dust that stuck to your damp skin. The driver didn’t even bother to look your way. 

Wandering around didn’t seem to be getting you anywhere. This town seemed pretty barren; you were beginning to wonder if it was big enough to even have a library. You looked around for any buildings that looked even relatively occupied, spotting a gas station.

“Thank god.” You mumbled, heading to it and stepping inside.

“I’m just saying, the boy hasn’t had a proper birthday in years, and the poor kid will be thirty soon.” An old man at the counter said. 

“We couldn’t afford to do much even if we wanted to.” The lady behind the counter didn’t even look up as you walked inside. “Besides, what would we do?”

“Excuse me?” You asked, waving slightly.

The two of them turned to you, the lady keeping her face neutral while the man didn’t bother to hide his disgust. 

“Can I help ya?” The lady said, putting her hands on her hips.

“Um, I was just wondering if this town had a library? I was wandering around for at least an hour, but I-.” You started.

“We ain’t got one.” The man spat, turning back to the lady. 

The lady nodded in agreement, looking back to the man. “I think Tommy would rather we skip it.”

You perked up at the name, walking up to the counter. “Can I please get a cherry coke then?”

The woman blew air out her nose, turning to get you a coke. The man continued, ignoring your interruption.

“Thomas don’t know what he wants. He’s been down, Luda Mae. We gotta think of somethin’ to get rid of his blues.” The man said.

The woman - Luca Mae – handed you your soda, and you have her a quarter for it. You sat away from them, listening in on their conversation. Thomas, these people knew mister Thomas! They must be his family, and apparently, his birthday was coming up.

“I know my boy, Monty. The best thing for ‘im isn’t reminding him he’s thirty and has nothing.” Luda Mae sighed. “I can make a cake, but we don’t need a big fuss.”

You sipped your drink slowly, praying that these people would somehow casually bring up the exact date in their conversation.

Monty leaned back and sighed. “I guess, but that’s all we’ve ever done.”

You bit down on the lip of your cup to keep from piping up. These people obviously knew of you, and they didn’t seem real fond of you either. It wouldn’t be the best idea to nose around in their personal business.

“Well, which direction is the nearest city with a library?” You asked as you finished your drink. 

Monty pointed vaguely. “Any direction, you’ll find one eventually.”

“Thanks.” You sighed, throwing away your soda cup. You walked to the exit, when you heard Luda Mae speak up again.

“If you come up with anything in the next month, then maybe we’ll try something new.” You heard her say as you walked out the door.

A month, mister Thomas’ birthday was about a month away. And apparently, he has been down lately. 

Well, seeing as he was the only person in town who hadn’t been outright nasty to you, you were going to take this opportunity to make a friend and grab it. You’d need a friend (or at the very least one person in this whole town who didn’t completely hate you) as you started this meat company’s clean up campaign. 

Your thoughts raced as you walked back to your hotel, split between how you were going to find a library and how you could befriend a man you knew nothing about. You decided you’d head out of town the way you came, and at next city you would find a library and read up all you could on meat packaging and industrial-level cleaning. 

As for mister Thomas, that would be a little trickier. He couldn’t speak, so it would be hard to know what he likes. Well, your traditional mother had been right about one thing. The best way to a man’s heart was through his stomach. So, maybe food would reel him in. 

A smile spread across your face as you entered your hotel room, grabbing your car keys.


	4. Lunch

Your plan to get the books was easy enough. Your plan to clean up the factory was coming together. What was yet to be seen, was whether or not you would be able to befriend Mister Thomas. 

You woke up early, making two lunches, putting them both in brown paper bags, not labeling them. You decided against any lunch with ingredients that Mister Thomas might be allergic to (like peanuts) and decided on making a ham sandwich with an apple. Both bags were the same, so you didn’t bother to label them.

The plan was to offer Thomas your lunch when you saw him – preferably in the morning, because if he hadn’t eaten breakfast you could offer him the food then and there before his shift even started. If you couldn’t manage to catch him in the morning, then you’d find your way into his little corner of the plant at around noon and ask if he had brought his own lunch. If he had, then you were just shit out of luck. 

The second lunch, of course, was in case he did accept the food, so you would still have something to eat. And, if you tested the waters and felt they were warm, you could just be candid and explain that you had just made two lunches in case he wanted to eat with you. If you felt he was being cold, you’d just offer the food and leave, not bothering him anymore. Make him come to you in his own time and all that. 

You had bought copious amounts of bleach and other cleaning products after your trip to the city. The library turned out to be not much help (as most of their cleaning books had been about keeping houses tidy and not meat packaging plants), so instead, you had gone directly to the city’s health inspector. 

They had been surprisingly helpful in giving you informational packets, some know how on exactly how dirty places like that typically are, along with several phone numbers of reputable cleaning services that specialized in meat. You were going to hold off on calling the cleaning people until you knew exactly what the budget was for things like that, but you had taken everything you could on how to clean the machinery. 

Driving up to the plant while the sun was only just grazing the skyline, you started unloading the cleaning supplies. You had a few jugs of bleach, along with several bulky, heavy supplies you had to go to a special store to get. It had cost you a pretty penny, but you were willing to make that sacrifice, though you’d probably be eating nothing but ham sandwiches and apples for the next week.

Loud, plodding footsteps alerted you that someone was coming. You stood up, your back already sore from carrying things into the building. A smile spread across your face when you saw Thomas walking towards you.

“Mister Thomas!” You waved, unable to contain your excitement. Your mother would have died of shame if she could see you now, so eager to see a man.

Thomas looked at you, noting how red your cheeks looked and how winded you were. He nodded in acknowledgement, walking to you.

“You’re just the guy I wanted to see!” You clapped excitedly, catching your breath.

He smiled slightly behind his mask, raising his eyebrow at you. If you had been anyone else, he’d guess that you’d want help carrying heavy things inside. But, you seemed to like making a habit of surprising him. And for some reason, you seemed genuinely happy to see him. So, he allowed himself to not be suspicious of your intentions, just for a moment. 

His mama had mentioned that she had seen you at the station. Her first impression of you hadn’t been great, but from what Thomas heard, you hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Mama was just hating you for the same reason everyone else was hating you.

You sat what you were holding on the ground, walking up to him, a smile on your face. Thomas tried not to think of how you had meticulously cleaned his hands and face the first time the two of you met. He had secretly been thinking about that a lot. He couldn’t help it. But it was starting to annoy him.

He didn’t realize just how much he had been thinking about it until the second day, when you had fallen asleep cleaning. Thomas had been disappointed that you had left the factory that morning. The loneliest, most desperate part of him had hoped that – somehow – history would repeat itself, and you would be working late, and he would be too, and you’d clean his hands again. And you’d smile at him again. It was a dumb wish. But, you were still smiling at him, even if nothing else would repeat itself.

“Have you had breakfast?” You asked, wiping sweat off your brow. 

Thomas shook his head. Money had been too tight, so he had skipped it. His mama always insisted that breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but Thomas knew that money was more important than his well-being. When it came to him or his family, he always tried to do what was best for his family. He was young, he could stand to miss a few meals.

“That’s good!” You said cheerily. 

Thomas raised his eyebrow again at your enthusiasm of him coming to work hungry. You hurried to your car, leaning in the open side window and pulling out a brown bag. You walked back over to him, a proud smile on your face.

“Take this.” You said, thrusting the bag into his hands.

Thomas looked down at it, then back up at you before shaking his head.

You frowned. “Why not?”

'This is your lunch.' He thought, thrusting the bag back into your hands.

You took it, looking down at it dejectedly. “You didn’t even look inside.” You said, sadness clear in your voice.

He shook his head again. Taking charity was one thing he couldn’t stand the idea of – and to take lunch practically out of a woman’s mouth no less. Everyone in town might think of him as an animal, but at least Thomas knew he was a man. He wouldn’t take food that you needed.

You looked up at him, still frowning sadly. Thomas had to look away. You almost looked like you were going to cry. 

You looked him over, realizing that he didn’t have any food for lunch with him, either. God, you’d give him both of your lunch bags if he’d take them, but he wouldn’t even accept one.

“Please?” You asked, holding it out again. “You don’t even have a lunch bag with you.”

Thomas shook his head again. His plan was to take some rejected meat and have that, either at work or at home. It wasn’t glamorous, but it put miniscule amounts of food on the table. He could survive off of what no one wanted. 

You kept holding it out to him, despite his clear rejection. 

“I have another lunch.” You admitted, now genuinely worried about his eating habits. “I made two because, well-.” You sighed, glancing in his eyes before looking away again. “I wanted to give you one. I wanted to eat lunch together, or at least give you the food if you didn’t have any.”

Thomas rolled his eyes at your obvious lie, brushing past you to get inside. You stepped out of his way, feelings of embarrassment welling up inside you.

He was almost to the door when your voice stopped him. “I’m not lying.” You said.

He turned, already shaking his head no, because who would ever come up with a juvenile plan like that? For so many reasons, why on earth would a pretty heiress like you-.

You ran to your car, pulling out the other lunch bag, making Thomas frown in confusion.

“It’s just a ham sandwich and an apple.” You said, holding up both bags. “I’m not a liar, I told you I had two.”

Walking over, Thomas frowned, looking at both bags. Now, this had to be some sort of ploy. He took a bag, peering inside it, to see exactly what you had described. He handed it back to you, taking the other one, eyebrows raising when he saw the exact same thing inside. Sandwich, apple. 

He blew air out his nose in a laugh, shaking his head and looking up at you in confusion. He held out one of his hands, his body langue plain as day. ‘What’s all this about?’

Your shoulders slumped as you realized that your plan was now so far gone that there would be no point in trying to keep up appearances anymore.

Gripping the bag in your hands tighter, you felt your face heating up in shame that you had pretty much been called out. You glanced up at Thomas to see he looked about as confused as you were embarrassed. 

“I wanted to try to befriend you.” You mumbled, kicking at a small stone in front of your feet absentmindedly. “I thought, since you seem nice, that maybe we could be friends since I don’t know anyone here, and I was hoping to give you a lunch, but then you wouldn’t take it…”

You knew you were blushing. Sighing, you set the lunch bag back in the car. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be annoying or weird you out.” You gestured at the lunch bag he was still holding onto. “Please take it? I really did make it just for you.”

Thomas looked at the bag, then back at you, feeling the corner of his mouth turning up in a smile. It was hard for him to trust kindness, but your embarrassment was far too genuine for you to be lying. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling as he nodded, holding up the bag before turning and walking inside the building, leaving you alone by your car. 

You stood there, watching him go inside. You weren’t entirely sure what had just happened, but, he took the food. So, that was good at least.

A few more cars pulled up, reminding you that the workday was about to start. You shook your head, trying to snap into business mode. You’d have to talk to that rude manager about your clean up project, and you knew that would not be an easy task.


	5. Fight

“What do you mean, no?” You snapped, crossing your arms tightly. 

“I said, no. As in fuck no.” The manager snapped. “We would lose more money than we would make if we shut down for a day just to clean. If fact, we gain nothing from cleaning!”

“We gain not being shut down by a health inspector.” You glowered at him, your face already heating up from rage. You’d had so much planned, you’d explained it all perfectly, and you had even paid out of pocket for the cleaning supplies. And he said no as if you had asked for something unreasonable. 

“Tell me lady, how many meat plants have you been to?” He leaned back in his seat, looking at you through those ridiculously thick glasses.

“W-well, none.” You admitted. 

He smirked. “So, how would you know if this place even needs cleaning?”

“Because it’s disgusting! If the average customer walked through this facility, they would never buy from us again!” You said, trying to keep your feelings in check.

He shook his head, laughing at you wickedly. “We deal with blood and shit and dead animals, no one wants to see what we deal with.”

“No, no, I went to a health, ugh, damn it-. Place! Health place, and they let me know what places like this are supposed to look like.” You’d stumbled over your words, forgetting words in the heat of the moment, and that only make the manager laugh at you harder.

“Oh? I had no idea you went to a place.” He cackled.

You looked out the window to see the workers looking at the two of you. Some of them were smirking. An anxious ball settled at the pit of your stomach, making you feel sick.

“We’re not going to shut down for a day just to clean.” He said as he finally calmed down, his voice saying that his word was final.

But you were having none of it. “You’re closed on Sundays anyway. That would be the perfect day to clean the equipment.”

“And who will do it?” He frowned. “We can’t pay people that extra day, and even if we could, none of them would volunteer!”

You grit your teeth, digging your nails into your palms. You would just leave, walk away. You didn’t need to fight with this failing factory manager over the fate of a town you didn’t know existed until recently. You didn’t have to endure this pig-headed stubbornness. 

But you were going to, because now, it was feeling a little bit personal.

“Then I’ll come here myself and clean it all alone!”

Thomas looked up from his chopping block, looking back at the manager’s office, your face red, anger clear on your face. He had heard your back and forth for the last few minutes, but your last shriek was what truly got his attention.

The workers all around him started murmuring as they watched you turn, walking out of the manager’s office, your head held stubbornly high.

Thomas frowned when he watched you leave the building. He figured that your plan wouldn’t go over well, but he had hoped you’d stay for lunch. He eyed the brown paper bag you had given him. It would be the first time in over a year he had food during the workday.

He heard your car staring up outside, and he knew you had driven away. 

Sighing, he turned back to his work when he heard a group of working whispering together. He’d usually ignore it, but he heard your name on their lips, making him pause.

“So she’ll be alone here Sunday, huh?” One of them said. 

Thomas tensed at his tone. The way the man spoke reminded Thomas of how his uncle Charlie talked about women, and when Charlie talked about women, nothing good ever came of it.

“I think she needs to be taken down a peg or two.” Another said. “And a lot can happen in a place like this.”

Soft chuckles came from them as they went back to work, each man coming up with different horrible things that could happen to you on Sunday.

Thomas shook his head, frowning deeply. His mind started to race, as he pictured you here, alone, and so ignorant to the dangers that were going to meet you there. He glanced at the lunch you made for him. 

He went back to his job. No one had even noticed he had stopped.


	6. Cleaning

You drove up to the plant at sunrise on Sunday. You were tired, but spite was fueling you better than any caffeine ever had in your whole life. You were donned in jeans and a flannel, your hair pulled up in a bandanna to keep it away from your face, and the heaviest boots that you owned. 

The sky was a beautiful shade of orange as the sun slowly rose, the silhouette of the plant looming against the sky. 

Sighing at the thought of all the work you had put on your own shoulders, you pulled up to the plant. Stepping out of the car, you rolled up your sleeves before looking in your back seat, pulling out all the manuals for the cleaning equipment you had bought. You were hoping against hope that there would be manuals for the equipment inside as well.

You held the manuals in your arms, making a beeline for the front door. You yelped and jumped away in surprise when you saw a man sitting in front of it.

He looked up, his eyes glinting mischievously.

“Oh, damn it!” You laughed, running your free hand through your hair. “And after I just promised I’d stop screaming in your face!”

Thomas chuckled, standing up to greet you. He was right, you would never stop screaming when you saw him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

He gestured to your manuals, shrugging slightly. He had to look away when you smiled brightly, your joy infectious. 

“Thank you thank you!” You bounced excitedly in place, realizing he was volunteering his time to help you clean. Without meaning to, you started giggling happily as well, joy filling your chest and spreading through your whole body, unable to conceal it. 

‘This has to mean he thinks of me as a friend!’ You thought, still bouncing on your toes. You were so happy you thought you could cry, but you stuck with punch-drunk giggling.

Thomas bit the inside of his cheek to keep himself from smiling, looking at something just past you so he wouldn’t have to witness the full force of your excitement. 

A thought crossed your mind, sobering you quickly. “I-I hope you know I can’t pay you, this is a volunteer-status endeavor.”

He held up his hand, silencing you. He then turned, opening the door and going inside. You trailed after him, another smile curling your lips. 

“So, we’re going to be winging most of this, but I think that with two of us, we can get a lot done.” You walked to a table, setting down the manuals. “We’re going to have to be careful, since we don’t want to cause any of the equipment to malfunction by cleaning them wrong.”

You hurried into the office, opening up all the file cabinets, looking for the manuals for the machinery. You frowned when you couldn’t find any. 

Thomas leaned on the door frame, watching you search.

Groaning, you kicked a cabinet when you couldn’t find any. “Well, whatever. We’ll figure it out. I think I remember something about avoiding the parts of the machinery that need oiling. Or maybe not? Whatever, the cleaning manuals should have something.” 

You brushed past him, heading back to the cleaning manuals you brought and cracking open one, looking through the index.

Thomas watched you, deciding to just await instruction. He watched you as you scanned through the books, a deep frown on your face. He had to admit, he admired your drive. He turned to the windows, listening for any sound of other people. 

There was the chance that those men had just been all talk, but Thomas wasn’t going to leave that up to chance. He wasn’t going to let you leave this place without him. 

“Okay, let’s start with the basics then!” You snapped, throwing the manual own in frustration. “Bleaching the knives and cleavers and shit.”

Chuckling, Thomas nodded, walking towards where the ‘knives and cleavers and shit’ were stored. 

***

“This is depressing.” You sat down on the ground, lying back and looking up at the ceiling. The floor had been one of the last things you had cleaned, so you weren’t completely grossed out. 

It was about four, and between you and Thomas, you had done a lot, but you hadn’t even gotten close to touching the fancy cleaning equipment you had bought. Without the manuals to the actual equipment, you were too scared to actually start on the real cleaning.

Thomas leaned on the wall, feeling as tired as you felt. He was used to physical labor, but cleaning hurt in a whole different way. 

You sighed, closing your eyes. “The floor is so nice and cold. Can I just lie here for a while?”

Thomas chuckled, looking down at your starfish pose. He was about to lie down with you, when he heard murmuring. 

He glanced down at you to see if you had noticed. You didn’t stir, so Thomas took that as a sign for him to investigate. 

Following his ears, he walked to one of the back doors, where the voices seemed to be coming from. He eyed a cleaver that was soaking in bleach water, grabbing its handle and pulling it out. 

He pressed his hand against the door, swinging it open, making the group on the other side flinch away in surprise.

His eyes narrowed as he saw five men. Their eyes were wide and shocked from being found out. He glanced down at their hands, seeing that they were all unarmed. They for sure hadn’t been planning a harmless prank. 

Thomas knew from years of schoolyard bullying that empty hands meant that they had nothing planned but up close and personal violence. 

“H-Hey Thomas, didn’t expect to see you here.” One of the guys said, the men behind him already starting to back away. 

He glared them down, stepping outside, keeping his armed hand out of their sight. 

“We were just going to…” The main trailed off, as he probably thought he wouldn’t run into any obstacles.

Thomas glared harder, flexing his arms, holding the cleaver tighter. He wanted to show it, but at the same time, he didn’t want to create any problems for you.

“Are you…?” The man stammered, gesturing uselessly with his hands, the others in his group still backing up behind him.

This man in particular had called Thomas an animal multiple times in school. Thomas glowered, remembering the memory, and decided to lean into that insult. He let out a low, angry growl, stepping closer to the man.

The man yelped, looking behind him for help to find that he had been abandoned. He turned, bolting after them, shouting insults at them for their cowardice.

Thomas chuckled; the growl had felt like a bit much, but it seemed to work out just fine. 

‘That’s right, go and tell everyone in town. This woman is under the protection of the dangerous, dumb animal Thomas.’ He thought to himself, stepping back inside, tossing the cleaver back into the bleach water.

He walked back over to you, seeing you digging into a brown paper bag. You looked up when you heard him coming, smiling at him. “Hey, want to share?”

Thomas sat down next to you, seeing you pull out an apple and a sandwich. He raised an eyebrow, wondering exactly how you could split something so straightforward.

“I eat half the sandwich while you eat half the apple?” You suggested. “And then we switch?”

He chuckled and shook his head, gesturing helplessly. ‘All yours.’

You giggled. “Yeah, really wish I’d thought to cut the sandwich in half.” You handed him the apple. “You take that at least.”

The took it, deciding he would think of it as payment for his services.

You took a bite out of your sandwich, looking around. “Well, we can leave after we clean up our clean up stuff.”

Thomas nodded, taking a bite out of his apple.

“Actually,” you continued, “I want to repay you for coming here today.”

Thomas shook his head, but you ignored that and kept talking. 

“Can I take you out? Maybe Friday, or, really any night?” You smiled.


	7. Drive In

Thomas sat in his bed, staring up at the ceiling. His leg was jiggling nervously, making the entire bed shake with it. His window was open so he could hear the sound of your car pulling up. Honestly, he should have made the meeting place anywhere else in town. Somewhere his family couldn’t see. 

His first instinct had been to turn down the offer, but you had started rambling before he could even shake his head. Honestly, he had been so taken aback by your proposal that he couldn’t have reacted even if he’d wanted to. You were rambling so fast and his brain was in such a state of shock that he barely even registered what you were saying, he had no idea where the two of you were going.

That had been on Sunday. If he had seen you any other day throughout the week, he would have found a way to tell you to forget all about it, but you hadn’t been back to the factory. So all Thomas could do was wait. 

He sat up, deciding to wait on the porch instead so he could run into your car as fast as possible. He made sure to move at his normal speed through the house, trying to hide his apprehension. 

God, he was almost thirty and acting this way about a date – if it even was a date. But, he was kind of playing the girl’s role, which was embarrassing enough without Monty and Charlie finding out. 

Thomas moved to the porch, walking down the steps and sitting down on them. The sun was just about to go down, making the sky turn a brilliant orange. 

He fiddled with his sleeve, eyeing it. Maybe he should roll the sleeves up? Was that in style? 

“What’s got you so on edge, boy?” Charlie’s sudden voice made Thomas jump, whirling around to see that Charlie was sitting on the porch swing with a bottle of booze in his hand.

Thomas inwardly kicked himself for not checking the damn porch swing. Charlie looked him up and down, raising his eyebrow. 

“What are you all gussied up for?” Charlie asked.

It was true, Thomas was dressed up more than usual. He’d swiped a freshly pressed shirt and pants from Luda Mae, and he had washed his hair an hour earlier. He was wearing his usual leather face mask, but he had taken a moment to wipe it down as well.

Thomas held up a finger, trying to think of any excuse, when your car pulled up to the house, making Thomas’ heart sink. He’d rather never go on a date his whole life than suffer having Charlie know he was fussing over a girl.

“Mister Thomas!” You got out of the car, smiling widely at him and waving. You were wearing a cute floral dress and your hair was done up with a ribbon headband. If Thomas weren’t so mortified, he would have been amazed by how good you looked.

Charlie whistled lowly. “I see.” He mumbled so only Thomas could hear. “Well, welcome little lady.” Charlie sat his bottle on the ground, standing and walking down the porch to greet you. Thomas eyed him wearily as he did.

“Hi!” You smiled and held out your hand. “Are you Thomas’ dad?”

“He ain’t got one.” Charlie said, taking your hand and shaking it. “I’m his uncle. Now, who are you?”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You pulled your hand away, glancing over at Thomas before looking back at Charlie. “I’m (y/n).”

“Ah, the heiress. And what do you want with Tommy?” He asked.

Thomas walked up, putting his hand on Charlie’s shoulder and shaking his head. Charlie pretended not to notice him, putting his hands in his pockets and focusing on you.

“I’m taking him out to thank him for helping me last weekend.” You said.

“What’s all the commotion out here?” Luda Mae stepped out of the house, her eyes widening at the sight of you. She frowned in confusion, looking between the three of you.

“Tommy’s got a date.” Charlie called, walking back to the porch.

Luda Mae looked even more taken aback than before. “With her?”

“With her. The heiress.” Charlie chuckled. “We should invite her to dinner tomorrow night.”

She nodded slowly, looking back out at you and Thomas. Thomas looked like he wanted to die, but you just seemed a little confused. “Of course. Of course, come to dinner tomorrow night, y’hear?”

You nodded; your eyes wide. “Sure, okay. Uh, thank you.”

Thomas sighed, walking towards the passenger side of the car. You looked back at him before looking back at Luda Mae. “Well, we have to go or we’ll be late. It was nice meeting you!” You hurried to the car, getting in and starting it up and backing out.

Luda Mae shook her head. “When did those two meet?”

“What’s it matter?” Charlie chuckled. “He’s finally got himself a little playmate.”

You drove down the road, your heart racing at meeting his family under more official circumstances. You glanced over at Thomas, who was looking out the window.

“Well, I was thinking we could get fast food, and then go to the drive in.” You smiled meekly and shrugged. “Or we could get food there.”

Thomas looked at you and nodded, unbuttoning his sleeve and rolling it up just to have something to do. He mimicked the action with the other sleeve, rolling them up to his forearms. 

You eyed his forearms for a moment before turning your attention back to the road. “I’ll get fast food so we don’t have to leave the car. Thanks for agreeing to come out with me, by the way. I’ve been looking forward to it all week. I’m surprised you’re wearing the mask though. I thought it was for work, but I’ve been wrong before.”

Thomas froze when you mentioned his mask. He glanced at you out of the corner of his eye, his heart speeding up. You didn’t know he was ugly. He didn’t know why, he just assumed you knew. A part of him figured you would have put two and two together, or someone would have told you. 

‘Oh no. Oh, god damn it.’ He thought, sitting up straighter in his seat. He should have seen that coming. 

“The drive in is about thirty minutes away, and tonight they’re doing a Vincent Price double feature.” You grinned at the road. “House of Wax and House on Haunted Hill. Maybe they chose those two because they both have ‘house’ in the title, I don’t know.” You giggled. “I actually hate scary movies, but it was all I could find in the area.”

Thomas nodded absentmindedly, looking over at you. You’d been so kind, but he couldn’t hold out hope that things would stay that way once you knew. 

I should show her tonight and get it over with. He thought. It felt like he was deflating. 

But when you pulled up to the fast food place, the mask stayed on. And when you paid to enter the drive in, the mask stayed on. When you turned on the radio to the station that would play the audio to the movie, it stayed on. When the movie began it stayed on, even when he had to eat his food through the small mouth hole in the mask.

You scooted closer to him as the movie started, smiling at the screen without a care in the world, the sounds of people chatting and getting in and out of their cars to go get refreshments in the background, prompting you to turn the radio up higher. Your shoulder just barely brushed against his.

Thomas eyed you as the title flashed across the screen. He thought you were beautiful, if he were being honest with himself. His eyes moved back to the screen. Maybe he wouldn’t tell you, not tonight. After all, the two of you were already out.


	8. Date

You sipped your soda, eyes trained on the screen as the lead actress hit Vincent Price, his face breaking apart and revealing it was a mask made of wax all along, revealing a face entirely made of burn marks.

You gasped in fear, clutching your hand to your chest. “Oh my god, that’s so scary.”

Thomas raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you. If you thought that mediocre Hollywood makeup was too much for you, he was looking forward to showing you his face even less than before.

Your hand shot out, grabbing his arm as the movie came to a climax, the main heroine nearly becoming encased in scalding wax. Thomas chuckled slightly, giving your hand a comforting pat. You really couldn’t handle scary movies.

As the credits rolled, lights began to turn on, people already flooding out of their cars to try and make it to the concession stand before the inevitable rush. You shook out your arms, giggling nervously.

“I wish they had anything other than this.” You laughed, looking up at him. “Do you want anything before the next movie starts?”

Thomas shook his head, tiling his head from side to side, popping it. Car seats weren’t the most comfortable to sit on for long periods of time. He glanced down at you, watching you try to stretch out your arms in the enclosed space.

“I guess I don’t want anything either.” You said, watching the commercials of dancing food flash across the screen. You fiddled with your hands, smiling at him. “Thank you for being with me. I know no one really likes me, so I’m glad we’re friends. I mean, if you think of me as a friend?”

Smiling to himself, he nodded in response.

Your face lit up like Christmas day. You grinned at the screen, unable to stop yourself from smiling.

Your joy made Thomas want to grin like an idiot too. He felt wanted. He turned to the screen as well, happy to hide his elation behind his mask.

“And, well, I guess your family thinks this is a date.” You said slowly, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. “So, maybe we shouldn’t disappoint them.”

Thomas’ head snapped over to you, eyes wide with disbelief. You giggled at his reaction, turning to face him. 

“Only if you want that.” You added quickly, shrugging slightly.

His head began to nod before he could really think it through, but he stopped himself. You still hadn’t seen his face. He sat back, weighing the dangers. If he did confirm it was a date, and you saw him without his mask, you could hate him for tricking you. If he said no, you could hate him because your feelings were hurt. 

Apparently, he took a moment too long to answer, because your smile began to falter.

“That’s okay.” You said as the next movie began to start. “I’ll explain that we’re just friends to them tomorrow night.”

Thomas paused, finally turning to the screen as well. You’d know soon enough why he didn’t want you to think this was a date. His thoughts were elsewhere during the second movie; he didn’t absorb a moment of it. At home. He’d show you at home, before he went into the house as you said goodbye. 

You kept a bit more distance during the second movie than the first. The second movie seemed to go by slower, awkwardness hanging in the air between you two. 

When it ended, you started the car again, flashing him a smile. “Ready to go home?” You asked. 

He nodded as you pulled out of your spot, the two of you leaving the drive in. You turned on the radio to a different station, letting music fill the silence around the two of you. You hummed along, taking another sip of your soda as you drove. It was warm and on the flatter side now, but you were thirsty.

“Mister Thomas?” You asked as the two of you drove through flat country road, nothing lighting the way in front of you but the moon and your headlights. 

He looked at you, nodding at you to continue.

“Is it okay if we park somewhere and talk?” You said softly. “Well, I guess we park and I monologue.”

His heart fluttered at the prospect, but he just nodded again. He knew that teenagers parked in odd places to do things with each other, but you had specified ‘talk,’ and he had specified that it wasn’t a date. But still, even the prospect made him nervous. 

Finally he nodded, and you pulled off the road, parking the card in a field and cutting the engine, but letting the radio play. You turned it up, getting out of the car. 

Thomas followed suit, walking around the car to meet you at the trunk. You hopped up, getting on the trunk and resting your back on the rear window. Thomas mimicked you, the car shifting under his weight, making you giggle. 

The two of you rested there for a while, looking up at the stars. The moon was full, and there were so many stars it appeared as though the sky were covered in fireflies. The sounds of the night and of the radio were all around, an owl hooting somewhere close by. There was rustling out in the field, probably racoons or foxes out in the night. 

The temperature had dropped after dark. It was still warm, but no longer sweltering. 

Both of your hearts were racing, though neither of you could tell the other was nervous. 

“I hope you don’t mind that I just ramble at you.” You finally said.

Thomas shook his head. No one outside his family ever really spoke to him, so it was a nice change to hear someone else’s thoughts. 

You smiled. “Good, because if it’s alright with you, I’m going to ramble for a little while. If you ever want me to stop just, I don’t know, pat my arm and I’ll shut up.” You giggled, looking over at him.

He looked at you, nodding at you to continue. 

“Well, I figured I might as well tell you a little bit about myself, before rumors start telling you about me instead.” You looked up at the sky, feeling the slight breeze. “I’m from a town called Stockton, Missouri. My family owned a farm there, but the government ran us out to make a dam.”

Thomas sat up, looking over at you. He’d heard that had happened in a few places around the country a little while back. Some folks had been worried that their small town would be next, but even Thomas knew that was just paranoia. There was no water anywhere near their town.

“It hasn’t been flooded yet, but they did make us move.” You shrugged, pain clear in your voice, the wound still fresh. “It was a really great farm.”

He reached out to touch your hand before thinking better of it. You might think he was telling you to stop talking. The two of you would have to find a better way to communicate. 

“Mama and Daddy built their lives there, you know. Had me and my sister there. I always thought, if I ever had kids, they’d grow up there too.” You covered up your sniff with a cough, hating how this still made you emotional even after you thought you had accepted it.

“Well, anyway, that’s where I’m from. I’m just as country as y’all.” You shrugged. “I have no idea how people got the idea that I’m from anywhere else. New York? Come on.

“I got this factory because my sister married some old dude who was passing through town. Turns out he owned this place.” You continued. “Well, I guess I made an impression on him, because I was always defiant to mom about not wanting to just get married and settle down.

“I used to do odd jobs wherever I could, which was usually a secretary or a maid. Not a lot of jobs for us gals, no sirrie. Well, he dies, right? After I’d talked his ear off at every family event he’d ever attended, about how I always wanted to get a real job, put elbow grease into something, you know?

“Well, even though I always thought he was way too old for my sister, I guess he must have actually loved her, because in his will he gave me the factory.” You finished your spiel, settling back against the car. “But it turns out I wasn’t cut out for big things after all. Everyone hates me and I can’t get anyone to help me clean up but you.”

Thomas turned to look at you as you spoke, taking in your words while you told him how you got to his sleepy little hometown. Something about sitting in the dark, listening to your voice and your breathing felt incredibly intimate. He liked it. He liked your voice. He liked learning about you.

“I really wanted to quit, but, I can’t let another town get fucked over.” You sat up, hugging your knees to your chest. “I don’t want another Stockton. Not for anyone ever if I can stop it.”

He reached out, tentatively putting a hand on your back. You turned, smiling at him. “Anyway. Now you know everything. This is me.”

Thomas chuckled softly. So, he knew the big mystery of the heiress’s origins. He bet his house that anyone else in town would kill to know that. 

You lied back on the car, curled on your side facing Thomas as if you were going to go to sleep. Even in the dim moonlight, Thomas could see you were smiling at him.

“Well, I can take you home now if you want.” You said softly.

He didn’t want to go home. He wanted to stay here with you, forever if he had the choice. He lied down next to you on the car, lying on his side facing you. It felt like you two were lying in bed together. 

Just a minute longer.


	9. Unveil

The drive home just had music accompanying it. Neither of you two knew how long you sat lied on the trunk of your car and frankly neither of you were in a big hurry for the night to stop. The music wasn’t quite loud enough to drown out the sounds of your car, but neither of you minded. 

As the two of you got closer to Thomas’ home, Thomas got more and more aware that he had told himself that he would show you his face. It was only fair that you knew what it was you were getting in to. No matter how much he wanted a million more nights like this, he couldn’t hide what he was forever. 

You drummed your fingers on the steering wheel, a smile playing on your lips. His silent presence was comforting, though you wanted to know what he was thinking a little bit better than just guessing what his expressions and gestures meant. Maybe on your next trip to the next town over you’d get a book on sign language, or a notebook for Thomas. 

The house finally came into view, the lights on the bottom floor all on. You pulled up to the driveway, turning off the car.

“Well, here we are.” You smiled, turning to Thomas. “I had a good time, even though this wasn’t a date.”

This is it.

You turned towards the wheel, debating if walking him to the porch would be odd. “I’m going to go back to the factory and clean Sunday, if you’re still interested.”

It’s now or never. 

You were looking up towards the house. “Well, goodnight, Mister Th-!”

When you turned to Thomas, a face you didn’t recognize stared back at you. This face had scars, and no nose, and thin lips. The face was far scarier than what you had seen on the movie screen earlier that night. 

A scream left your lips, but your hands clasped over your mouth, cutting off the sound. Your eyes must have been wide in horror.

Your mind raced through the possibilities of what exactly it was that you were seeing. A mask? Was this a prank?

Thomas sighed softly, gesturing towards his face in a sort of, this is it gesture. He watched your face, as the initial shock and horror wore off and you began to comprehend what it was you were looking at. 

“I-…” You trailed off, swallowing and slowly lowering your hands. “I’m sorry. I-. I just wasn’t…”

Thomas shrugged slightly, pulling his mask back on. He had expected as much. 

You choked out a laugh. “Is that the fourth time I’ve screamed in your face?”

He chuckled again, counting up the number of times in his head. Was it four times now? Who could know at this point. 

“I’m sorry.” You smiled, though your body language screamed that you were nervous. “I promise promise, that’s the last time I’m going to scream in your face.”

Thomas nodded, smiling slightly behind the mask. Well, it had gone better than he thought it would. People had started crying in the past at the sight of his face. 

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow night for dinner.” You started your car up again. “Right?”

He blinked, looking over at you. Finally he nodded slowly.

You smiled. “Okay. I’ll be here tomorrow night, Mister Thomas.”

Thomas nodded, slowly getting out of the car. You waved at him from the driver’s side as he walked up to the front door. You gave him one last wave before slowly backing out of the driveway, heading back to your hotel.

He watched you go, your reaction leaving him confused and nervous.


	10. Cake

The Hewitt home was absolutely buzzing that night. And the next morning. And the next afternoon. Everyone in the home wanted to know more about you and Thomas, Luda Mae more than anyone. She hounded and hounded Thomas, but even if he did speak, he couldn’t explain how all of this had come to pass. One day, you had just come into the town, and you had cleaned his hands with a rag, and next thing he knew, he was here in this point in time. 

“I know it’s good manners to invite someone to dinner, but we barely have enough food for ourselves.” Luda Mae huffed, putting her hands on her hips. “If she has any manners at all she should bring something here for us!”

Thomas just shrugged helplessly. He had his doubts in you would show up at all.

Luda Mae clicked her tongue. “She better just settle for beans and corn bread, that’s all we have. Nothing fancy like she’s used to.”

She’s not fancy, mama. Thomas wanted to say. He knew you wouldn’t care about frivolous things like that. 

She continued to ramble on about things like that, equal parts nervous about having company for the first time in she couldn’t remember how many years and suspicious of you. It wasn’t that Luda Mae didn’t think her son was the best boy in the entire world and entirely worthy of love – it was that, on some level, she could never quite picture it. And out of nowhere here you were, some out of town hot shot no one even knew. 

Thomas listened patiently, straightening things up to prepare for a dinner he still wasn’t sure was going to happen. Not after your reaction to his face. Your nervousness as you practically shoved Thomas out of the car. 

That’s it, he was absolutely positive that it was all over. There was no way in hell-.

“Tommy! Your girlfriend is at the door!” Charlie called from the front room.

Well, Thomas had been wrong before.

Thomas stood, going to the front door and opening it to see you stepping out of your car, a cake in your hands. Your hair was pulled away from your face by a long piece of fabric that matched your dress. He thought you looked really cute, and god, he was relieved to see you. 

You were too preoccupied by trying to hold the cake and close the car door at the same time. You kicked it closed with your foot, turning to the house, a wide smile appearing on your face when you saw Thomas standing there.

“Mister Thomas!” You called, bouncing over to him. 

His chest tightened. It was as if him showing you his face had never happened, you still smiled that same smile at him as you had before. 

You walked up the porch steps, holding up the cake for him to see. It was just a simple vanilla cheesecake with a simple smiley face on the top made out of strawberry jam. 

“I heard your birthday was soon.” You said sheepishly. “So I thought I’d bring this over.” 

Thomas stared down at the cake with confused eyes. Slowly, his hands reached out, tenderly taking the box from you. You gave it to him, confused because you were more than willing to carry it into the house. 

He looked down at it. Cheesecake. Thomas could probably count on one hand how many times in his life he had had a dessert as rich as cheesecake. Twinkies, and what little candy his mama had at the gas station, yes. But this was something completely different, this was a special cake just for him.

His slow thought process finally made its way to what it was you had said. His birthday? Oh right, that was coming up. How did you know about it? You got this just for him.

You shifted from foot to foot awkwardly, rubbing your hands together. “I would have gotten you a gift, but I honestly don’t know what you’d like, and I know I’m a little early with this…”

Thomas shifted until the cake was in his right hand, balancing it there. With his left he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you into his chest lightly, giving you plenty of room to wriggle away if you didn’t want to touch him.

A tiny gasp of surprise escaped you as he pulled you to his chest. Your face instantly heated up, your hands clasped in front of you. After a moment the surprise passed, and you carefully wrapped your arms around him, hugging him back. 

He would have cried if his family weren’t just inside. 

“How touchin’.” Charlie’s voice came from the other side of the screen door.

You leapt out of Thomas’ arms as if you had been electrocuted, your face red as a beet. “Nice to see you again, sir…!”

“Ain’t ever been respectable enough to be called sir, and that ain’t about to start now.” Charlie held open the door for you. “Well come on in, I know everyone’ll wanna know everything about you.”

You quickly stepped inside, Thomas right behind you holding the cake. You awkwardly stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do with yourself. Thomas walked past you to the kitchen, and you followed him, avoiding being left alone with anyone you didn’t know very well. 

Luda Mae was finishing up the beans when you and Thomas stepped into the kitchen, Charlie hovering in the hall behind the two of you. Monty had heard talking and joined Charlie in the hall, looking in with him.

Thomas showed her the cake before putting it in the fridge.

Luda Mae turned, looking back at you, trying to summon her nonexistent hostess skills. “Thank you for bringing the cake.”

“For Thomas’ birthday, so I heard.” Charlie called from the hallway.

She frowned in confusion. “How did you…?”

“I knew I knew her!” Monty hollered, pointing at you. “You were at the station last week!”

You nodded, smiling awkwardly. “That was me. I overheard you saying it was ‘Tommy’s’ birthday, and I kind of put two and two together.”

Thomas’ chest tightened at the sound of his nickname coming out of your mouth. He appreciated your persistence at calling him ‘mister,’ but to hear you call him his childhood nickname felt a million times more intimate. 

“Oh.” Luda Mae nodded. “It ain’t for a couple more weeks, but thank ya. I know Thomas appreciates it. So, to get right down to the point-.” She walked over to you, her small frame somehow passing for intimidating. “You’re the girl my Tommy is courtin’?”

“Oh, well actually-.”

A hand on your shoulder stopped you. You turned, Thomas nodding slowly, confirming to his mother that yes, you were the girl that he was dating. Your eyes widened in surprise, the surprise quickly turning to glee that you had to hide by biting the inside of your cheek. Otherwise you would have grinned like an idiot. 

You looked back at her, nodding in confirmation with him. “Yes.”

She nodded slowly, looking between the two of you. Thomas’ eyes were glimmering. He was happy. Luda Mae hadn’t seen her son that happy since he was a small child. She finally smiled, holding you her arms and pulling you into a hug.

“Well, we’re glad to meet ya officially.” She said, pulling away. “I’m almost finished up in here, Monty, Charlie, you set the table and let the youngins be for a bit.”

For once, Charlie didn’t groan about being given minimal responsibility. Instead he grinned, looking at you and Thomas. “Why don’t you show her the house, boy?” He then grabbed Monty by the collar and pulled him off.

Thomas chuckled softly to himself. He felt light. Usually everything about him screamed weight. Sore muscles, the sound of his feet thudding on the ground, the force he had to use on a daily basis just to do his job – it didn’t exist as he took your hand. He squeezed it, and you squeezed back, and he walked you around the house.

Though he couldn’t speak, you could gather what room was what as he showed you around. You continued to bite your cheek in order to stop yourself from smiling. Though you couldn’t see yourself, you were positive your cheeks were red.

He only slowed when he came to the bedrooms. Bringing a woman into his room, even if it was you, seemed impolite at best, and sketchy at worst. 

You looked up at him expectantly, and he nodded down at you, deciding that he could at least show you’re his room for a moment. Dinner was almost done, it wouldn’t take long. 

Thomas walked you to his room, opening the door for you to see inside. You stepped in, looking around. The room was surprisingly barren in terms of furniture, as he only had a bed and a single dresser. In decorations and clutter, it was filled to the brim. 

Furs and masks were aligned on the walls, and small piles of animal bones that upon closer inspection looked to be pieces of art. There were clothes on the floor, probably just dropped haphazardly after a long day at work. There also seemed to be different pieces of scrap metal inside, as if he collected whatever he thought might become useful someday. 

“Wow.” You breathed, looking around. “You’re an artist.”

Thomas shook his head. He didn’t consider himself an artist at all. 

“But you are!” You looked at the masks and bones that you now saw were making a spiral on a piece of painted plywood, the skull in the center. “This is art, mister Thomas.”

He paused at that, gazing at your back. ‘Mister Thomas’ was endearing at first, but the two of you weren’t strangers anymore. He didn’t want a ‘mister’ in front of his name anymore.

His hand reached out to touch your back, somehow sign to you that he wanted you to call him my just his name from now on, when his mama called to the two of you from the hall, stopping him in his tracks.

“Tommy! Dinner’s on!” Luda Mae called.

You turned around, giving him one of your wide smiles. “Well, I hope I can get them to like me.”


	11. Rum and Coke

The five of you sat around the dinner table, eating quietly. No one was entirely sure what to talk about, though the sideways glances Thomas’ family cast towards you let you know that they certainly had questions, if not about you, then about your relationship with Thomas.

“Well, I’m going to fix myself a drink.” Charlie said abruptly, standing. “New girl, I’m making you somethin’.”

“Oh, um, I’m not really much of a drinker-.” You started.

“It’ll be good, cross my heart.” Carlie brushed you off, walking to the kitchen. Thomas gave him a look that he missed in his rush to leave the table. 

His proclamation of fixing you a drink did break the ice, at least.

“So, how’d you two get acquainted?” Monty asked, looking between the two of you.

“Oh, well, I came into town last week to check out the plant, and I stayed late to clean the floor.” You tried not to smile, realizing that this was one of the first steps of being a couple; telling people how you two met. “Mister Thomas was so absorbed in his work he stayed late, he kind of surprised me, actually.”

Luda Mae clicked her tongue, looking at Thomas. “You gotta keep better track of the time, Tommy. They don’t pay overtime.” 

Thomas shrugged slightly, bobbing his head back in forth in a ‘I know, I know’ gesture. You giggled, smiling at Luda Mae.

“Well, he kind of scared me a little, but I snapped him out of it and sent him back home.” You smiled more, glancing at Thomas. “And we kind of kept running into each other, until he helped me clean more last weekend.”

“Is that what you were doing, Tommy?” Monty raised an eyebrow.

Thomas nodded slightly; he’d really just been there to protect you from disgruntled employees, but no one but him had to know that. It had led to this, after all. The reason why didn’t matter.

Charlie walked back in, holding two huge mugs of dark liquid. “Here you go.” He said gruffly, handing the mug to you.

You had to grab it with both hands, the mug was so big. “Oh my gosh, what’s in this?”

He sat back in his spot, taking a swig of the drink. “Just coke and rum.”

“Why’d you make her a huge drink like that?” Luda Mae scolded as you stared down at the liquid with wide eyes.

“What, it’s impolite not to make a guest a drink.” Charlie took another big swig of his drink, ignoring the warning glare from Thomas.

You carefully brought it to your lips, taking a tentative sip. The next thing you did was try with all your might not to make a face. This concoction was obviously more rum than coke. It was so bitter it made your face contort.

“How’d you like it?” Charlie asked.

Swallowing, you forced your face to look neutral. “It’s good.”

“Good.” He replied, going back to his food.

You took another polite sip of the drink before quickly taking a bite of food to try and cover up the bitter taste. Thomas watched you, smiling slightly behind his mask. Your expressions were way too honest. He was a little worried as to why Charlie was trying to get you drunk, but Thomas wouldn’t let anything bad happen. 

Thomas went back to eating his food, when he felt something nudge his foot. Figuring it was a mouse, Thomas kicked at it, earning a surprised guffaw from you. 

You pressed your lips together, trying not to laugh or squeak in pain from Thomas kicking your foot. Thomas raised his eyebrows, realizing slowly that you had been trying to play footsie with him. You covered up your giggle with another drink of the rum and coke.

Thomas would have chuckled too if not for the fact he felt instant guilt for kicking you. He felt around for your foot with his, carefully nuzzling your foot with his. You flashed him a smile, letting him know you were okay.

The rest of the Hewitts watched your not-at-all-subtle display of affection. Charlie smirked into his drink, watching Thomas deal with a pretty girl flirting with him for the first time in his life. Monty ate his food, happy for Thomas but wondering what the heck an heiress like you was doing with a guy like him. Luda Mae, while not without her own suspicions, was already picturing what her grandbabies might look like. She could dream, couldn’t she? You seemed to actually like her boy, maybe the two of you really could work.

The five of you ate, and you continued sipping the bitter drink that had been made for you to be polite. Your head began to feel a little fuzzy, your body feeling a little loose. Before you realized it, you began to sway slightly in your chair as dinner wrapped up. 

Luda Mae stood, collecting the plates. Charlie grabbed your mug and refilled it, blatantly ignoring how drunk you were obviously getting and Thomas’ glare.

Thomas put a hand on your shoulder, shaking his head slightly, trying to tell you you didn’t have to drink it. You were too buzzed to read his signals, instead giving him a wide, happy smile and taking another drink. It was beginning to not taste as bitter.

Frowning, he rose, going and getting you a glass of water. Luda Mae was cutting the cheesecake, and when Thomas walked into the kitchen, she smiled at him and gave him a gentle squeeze on the arm. The two of them didn’t have to exchange words for the other one to know what it was she was saying; she approved of you.

He gave her a small smile as he got you the glass of water. You had his mama’s approval. It was almost scary, because for the first time, Thomas began to realize that this was real. Or at least, it was to him. He really liked you. His family liked you. He wanted to stay with you.

It scared him the more he thought about it. But he’d move through the fear, and hope that this was real for you too.

Meanwhile, in the dining room, Monty and Charlie watched you sway in place. Monty cocked his eyebrow at Charlie, silently asking him why he was feeding you alcohol. 

Charlie leaned forward, looking at you evenly. “So, now that we’re alone, what is it you’re trying to get out of the boy?”

You giggled softly, taking another drink. “I like him?”

Monty and Charlie exchanged a look. 

“Have you seen his face?” Monty asked carefully. 

“Seen it? I screamed in it.” You giggled, resting your forehead on the table for a moment before sitting back upright. “It was kind of scary, can’t lie.”

Charlie nodded slowly, frowning. “But what do you want out of him?”

Furrowing your brow in confusion, you looked up at him. “He’s my friend?”

Monty shrugged and looked back at Charlie. “Good enough for me.”

“Guess so.” Charlie sat back in his chair, feeling a little defensive at your calling Thomas’ face scary, but could understand why you’d think that way since you weren’t used to it.

Thomas and Luda Mae walked back in, Thomas setting a water in front of you and Luda Mae placing the cake and some dished in the middle of the table. 

Thomas pet your back, taking one of your hands and wrapping it around the water glass. You smiled at him, taking a sip of water. 

“Thanks for bringing this.” Luda Mae began plating the cake. 

You nodded in return, smiling at Thomas. “I’ve wanted to do something for his birthday. He’s the only friend I have here.”

The night began to get fuzzy as a slice of cake was put in front of you. You ate, responded to conversation, but your blinks began getting slower and longer. 

Thomas enjoyed every bit of the cheesecake, but he had one eye on you. You were practically falling asleep at the table. He knew you were too far gone when you leaned your head on your hand, the other one clinging to your fork, your eyes staying closed for five whole seconds before they opened again. 

“Well, she can’t drive home.” Luda Mae said. “Tommy, why don’t you put her up in your room for the night?”

Nodding, Thomas took the fork out of your hands, setting it on your plate with your half-eaten slice. You looked up at him, a tired smile on your face. He smiled back, wrapping his arms under your legs and behind your back, carefully picking you up out of the chair.

You yipped in surprise, growing more aware of your surroundings and clinging to his neck. The men tittered at your reaction as Thomas started walking you back to his room.

“Oh my god you’re picking me up, oh my god you’re picking me up, you’re so strong but oh my god don’t drop me, oh my god Tommy-!” You slurred, clinging to him with all your might.

Thomas chuckled to himself. You weren’t even close to the heaviest thing he had ever picked up. What did give him pause though, was that you finally called him Tommy.

You had the same realization, immediately forgetting about your fear of being dropped as you giggled. “Mister Tommy. Thomas, Tommy Mister Thomas-Tommy!”

He had to suppress his grin as he walked into his room, carefully laying you on the bed. You kept your arms around his neck even when you were safely out of the air. He stilled when you held him in place when he tried to pull away. 

Your breathing was soft against his shoulder, your arms locked behind his neck. Thomas began to wrap his arms around your waist but stopped, instead resting his hands on the bed, afraid of scaring you. 

The two of you stayed there until you finally pulled back, your face solemn, your hands still on his shoulders. Your faces were mere inches from each other, as you looked him over.

“Take this off?” You breathed, reaching for his mask.

Thomas shook his head, grabbing your wrists. Tonight was great, he didn’t want to ruin it with his face. 

You smiled, still swaying in place. “Please, Mister Tommy?”

You were too cute for your own damn good. Letting out a slow breath, Thomas let go of your hands, reaching behind his head and slowly undoing his mask, letting it fall into his lap. 

Smiling, you reached up, gently touching the scarred skin next to his mouth. He felt like a bug under a microscope under your gaze, tensing up as you slowly dragged your fingertips over his face.

“It’s not as scary on second look.” You smiled, still blinking slowly. “It’s actually kind of cute.”

Thomas blew air out of his nose. You were drunker than he thought you were.

“You look like…a little turtle.” You giggled, bringing your forehead to his and nuzzling your forehead against his. 

He raised his eyebrows at that. Part of him wanted to be offended, but there was so much affection in your voice, his knee-jerk reaction of anger simmered away into nothing. Thomas hated being compared to an animal, but it had never been a term of endearment before.

Giggling more, you continued running your fingers over his face. “A cute turtle. Cutie pie turtle, Thomas.”

Shaking his head and rolling his eyes, Thomas gently pushed you back onto the bed. You nuzzled your face into his pillow, a wide and goofy grin on your face.

“Stay with me until I fall asleep?” You asked, grabbing his hand.

Thomas nodded, but that was unnecessary, because you were asleep the moment you finished your question.

He watched you sleep for a while, taking you in. He was happy, and that was so, so damn scary. Anger had gotten him through his entire life, he wasn’t sure if he could trust joy yet.

Turning, he pressed his back against the bed, crossing his arms and falling asleep on the floor next to you.


	12. Sleep

Your first waking thought was panicked confusion as you bolt upright in bed in a room you didn’t recognize. It took a minute for the memories from the night before to come flooding back.

Soft breathing next to you made you turn to see Thomas curled up on the floor beside the bed, asleep. He was sitting upright with his knees tucked up to his chest, his back against the bed, his arms crossed. His mask was on the floor next to him. The sight made you smile.

Reaching out, you slowly ran your fingers through his hair. Thomas jolted awake, turning to you and blinking slowly.

“That can’t be good for your back.” You whispered, gently grabbing his arm. “Come up here with me.”

Too tired to fight it, Thomas crawled onto the bed with you. You scooted out of the way to make room for him, his large frame making the old bed creak loudly.

Thomas let out a quiet sigh, his back stiff from sleeping on the floor. He curled up, facing you, his eyes already closing once more. He was too groggy to think too hard about the situation he was getting himself into, and he fell back asleep.

Your eyes were also burning, begging to close and go back to sleep. But your brain wasn’t ready to go back to sleep yet, not with Thomas so close. You slowly scanned his face, taking him in. He even looked a little stressed when he was asleep. His brows were tense, and you realized with horror that you could hear him grinding his teeth.

“Oh no, that’s not good.” You murmured, bringing your hand up and lightly running your fingers through his hair.

Thomas shifted slightly, but didn’t wake up. His teeth continued to grind, so you continued to try to soothe him in his sleep. You lightly scratched his scalp, worrying about not only his stress levels but also his dental health. 

“Poor baby.” You sighed, continuing to play with his hair. Slowly, the grinding stopped.

Smiling in relief, you kept looking at him. He looked more attractive the more you looked at him, but from what you knew, no one in this stupid town had ever given him a break. The thought of how alone he must have been broke your heart. You knew you didn’t know much of him, but what you did know was all good.

You knew he was loyal, and hard working. You knew he was protective. Underneath all of that muscle and height, you knew that Thomas worried about things. He had his own quiet ways of showing how much he worried, but it was obvious if you could read him. And you liked to think you could read him.

Turning onto your side facing away from Thomas, you wriggled backwards until you could feel his body heat on your back, but you weren’t touching. You closed your eyes, ready to fall asleep when Thomas’ hand snaked around your waist. 

You smiled, your heartbeat picking up a bit as you tried to fall back asleep.

Thomas smiled to himself, pulling you closer to him. The feeling of you shifting in the bed had woken him, and now he was holding you as he was falling back to sleep. For the first time in a long time, Thomas began to think that maybe things were going to be okay.


	13. Morning

Waking up the second time, you sat up, rubbing your eyes. Thomas silently rose next to you, evidently awake but waiting for you to make the first move. You smiled, nudging his shoulders with yours.

“Good morning.” You mumbled, still a little tired. He nodded in reply, smiling slightly and nudging you back. 

You slipped out of his bed, stretching, your body stiff and a bit raw from sleeping in your day clothes. Thomas watched you, the smile still on his face. You looked cute, groggy and just waking up. 

“I wanted to clean the plant more today.” You said, walking around the bed to him. 

Thomas nodded, taking your hand in his as he looked up at you. He’d be willing to clean today if you asked. 

You giggled a bit as you realized that the two of you had slept together. Just sleep, but still. You wanted to kiss his forehead, but you forced that urge down. It didn’t feel like the right time to try and be that intimate. 

“I have to go back to my hotel room and change, but would you meet me there in about an hour?” You asked, lightly giving his hand a squeeze. 

Thomas nodded, reaching past you to grab his mask off his side table. He put the mask on, standing and showing you the way out. You walked close to his side, still slightly shocked that you two were a real couple now. It didn’t quite seem real, like maybe you had made it up in your drunken stupor. 

Sunlight assaulted your eyes as Thomas opened the front door for you. You chuckled, covering your eyes, shielding them from the orange early morning light. 

“Beautiful day.” You grinned, looking up at Thomas. He smiled and nodded, stepping outside with you. 

You walked to your car, unlocking it and stepping inside. “See you in an hour?”

Thomas nodded again, holding the door open to stop you from closing it. 

“Thomas?” You asked, your hand on the door. 

He blew air out of his nose slowly, seeming to steel himself. You frowned in confusion, wondering if you’d done something wrong the night before but forgot about it. That seemed like a strong possibility, considering how drunk you had gotten on such little alcohol.

“Is everything okay?” You asked slowly.

Nodding, he knelt down on the ground, removing his mask. He looked up at you with his naked face, raising his eyebrows slightly.

“Yes?” You pressed, turning more towards him.

He stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes melting your heart. Carefully, he cupped your face, making you temporarily forget how to breathe. His palms were rough, and there were callouses on his fingers. He had the hands of a working man. 

He leaned up, brushing his lips against yours. It was barely a brush, only the ghost of the feeling of his lips on yours for less than a moment before he let go of your face, pulling away. 

You sat there, frozen, your face heating up having nothing to do with the rising Texas sun. 

Thomas looked away, putting his mask back on and hurrying into the house as if something was chasing him. When the door closed, you snapped out of it, a slow smile spreading across your face. 

Giggling, you closed your car door and started it, looking forward to seeing him again in an hour.


	14. Blood

You put your hands over your mouth, horrified by the sight in front of you. What progress you and Thomas might have made the week before, was entirely eradicated now. Worse than eradicated, it was dirtier than you had ever seen it. It looked as if the workers had taken buckets of blood and splashed them on the walls and equipment, even the windows. 

Taking a tentative step into the building, you gagged from the smell. This hadn’t been an accident. The blood looked fresh, only just starting to coagulate on the surfaces it had been dumped on. Whoever had done this couldn’t be too far away. Had they known you were coming? Were they still here?

Your heart pounded as you looked around, the hair on the back of your neck standing up at the gruesome sight around you. A wave of nausea crashed in your stomach as your brain started working a mile a minute. This was animal blood, right? 

Legs beginning to shake, you took another step, back to the exit. Thomas wasn’t here yet. You didn’t feel safe. 

A blob of drying, jelly-like blood dripped from a table, making you yelp and race for the exit. And you crashed into someone’s chest, making you fly backward onto the bloody floor, the metallic crimson sticking to your hands and clothes, making you scream and gag at the same time. But you didn’t have time to be grossed out as you scooted backward, the sunlight behind the figure stopping you from seeing who you had run into.

Thomas jumped in surprise, grabbing the doorframe to stop himself from falling backwards. You had almost knocked the wind out of him. His eyes widened in horror as his eyes adjusted to see you on the floor covered in blood.

A shocked, guttural sound escaped him as he fell to your side, scooping you up in his arms. You finally recognized him and started sobbing into his chest, only making more animalistic concerned sounds come from Thomas as he tried to look you over, trying to see where you were hurt.

“I want to leave; I want to leave!” You sobbed, trying your hardest not to touch yourself with your blood covered hands.

Thomas’ chest heaved as his breathing sped up, confused but wanting to follow your orders. He scooped you up, finally noticing as he rose that the entire building was covered in blood. 

Frowning, he took you outside and sat you beneath a tree, cupping your face and gently turning your head back and forth, double checking that you weren’t hurt. You continued crying, looking down at his hands, shoving him away when you realized that he was blood on his hands from picking you up.

“I-I-I-!” You stuttered, curling up in a ball. “Wh-what happened?”

Thomas shook his head sadly, glancing back at the building. He knew those people had never changed; they had just learned to fear him. They hadn’t learned it hard enough. 

He sat beside you as you started frantically wiping your hands on the grass, sitting there uselessly as you continued to hyperventilate. He looked at the blood on his hands, remembering the other times they had been red with blood. Of course those times, it had been his own blood.

It was funny, he had been so happy for only the span of a week, maybe only even a weekend. And yet being happy so briefly had already made him go soft. 

He looked back at the building that he had worked in since he was a teenager. Where he had been treated like an animal and avoided and harassed. The place where a stranger had cleaned his hands and face with a rag. Where he had helped her clean because he knew that the people who worked there would hurt her if he left her alone. Where she had asked him out on his first date. And now he was sitting next to her uselessly as she sobbed because she was unused to such unwarranted cruelty.

“I-I, we can’t clean that up!” You wanted to wipe your eyes, but even after wiping your hands on the grass, they were too dirty to touch your face with. “I-I need to shower.”

Thomas nodded slowly, looking you up and down. He should have prevented this. Protected you from this. He wasn’t sure how, but he should have. He rose, taking your hand and pulling you up, his heart twisting in an ugly way at how your limbs were still shaking. 

Sniffing, you turned, trying to see how much blood had gotten on your pants. “I guess I have to get my seat dirty."

Thomas shook his head, pulling off his shirt. You raised your eyebrows, temporarily distracted from your freak out at the sight of his bare chest. He had scars on his arms you hadn’t noticed before. He wrapped his shirt around your waist, tying the sleeves around your waist. 

You sniffed and smiled weakly, trying to hold back the post-cry hiccups. “Thank you so much, Thomas.”

Thomas leaned down, kissing you softly on the forehead. He didn’t want you to go to your hotel room alone, not while you were still so upset. But you wanted to wash up, and it wasn’t as if Thomas could do anything to fix what had just happened.

Pulling your keys out of your pocket, you shrugged slightly. “I guess if they don’t want me to clean, I won’t.” You said, defeated. “They can have fun cleaning that up on their own tomorrow. I’m done trying to help them.”

He nodded slightly, resting his hand on your back as you walked to your car. Your sniffing had calmed, though your body was still shuddering occasionally as a shaky breath escaped you. He watched uselessly as you got in your car, started it, and returned your weak wave as you drove off. 

His stomach churned as he turned, walking back home, the sun beating down on his bare back. Did this mean that you would be leaving town?


	15. Surprise

Thomas spent the rest of the day worried about you. He went into his room, busing himself with making a new mask out of some rejected cowhide he had found at work. Usually, working kept his mind off of things, but his mind kept going back to you. 

Should he go back and try to clean up all that blood himself? No, there would be no way that he could do it all on his own before morning. It would be better to let the men who had ruined everything get in trouble with the manager the next day. Wait, could you and Thomas get in trouble for that if it was pinned on the two of you somehow? You owned the place, but everyone was always looking for excuses to be rid of Thomas. He could probably get fired for that.

His stomach sank. Whoever had covered the entire place in blood probably worked there, if it was a group of people they could easily all point the finger at Thomas. 

Sinking into his bed, Thomas stared up at the ceiling. Maybe he should go there and try to clean solo. No, he was thinking about it too hard. He would go to sleep, and wake up in the morning, and go to work, just like every other day. He wouldn’t be able to sleep if he stayed up thinking about what ifs. 

Of course, despite knowing that he needed to calm his brain, it kept him awake with more and more questions. The questions that he kept coming back to were what you would do now that you had forgone the clean up project, and what he would do if he lost his job over all this. 

At some point in the night, he must have gone to sleep, because he woke up to the sound of a rooster cawing and sunlight in his eyes. Thomas brought his hand to his face, groaning. He wanted to sink into the mattress and never come out. 

His eyes were burning, and his head was throbbing as if he had been hit. He couldn’t remember the last time he had been so tired. 

Sitting up, Thomas ran his hand through his hair, groaning louder, the groan turning into almost a yell. He got himself off the bed, threw his clothes on, and began the trek to work, his brain finally too tired to question everything as he went. 

As was the usual, he was the first one there. The blood was completely dry now, turning nearly everything in the building into a rusty brown color. Thomas ignored that, grabbing his apron off the hook he usually left it on and putting it on, slumping over to his station. 

His station was covered in blood, more so than usual of course. Thomas glanced over to the cleaning rags he’d normally use to wipe things off only to see that they were completely soaked through with blood. 

Thomas sighed, sitting down at his station, deciding that he wouldn’t lift a finger until instructed to do something. He had done enough at this place for minimal money, he was through cleaning up other people’s messes. 

He sat there for a while, until he heard the door open. He heard snickering, and a few male voices talking lowly to each other. Well, it was easy enough to figure out that those were the culprits. Soon after came a few surprised gasps, innocent workers who didn’t know about the prank. After that, came the loud swearing of the manager. 

Thomas sighed to himself, listening to his manager pitch a fit. Apparently, he wasn’t part of the prank. What caught Thomas’ attention was when the swearing stopped, and profuse apologizing and explaining began. 

He rose, looking around to see the manager talking quickly to some man Thomas didn’t recognize. The man was wearing brown pants and a white button up, and he had a clipboard tucked under his arm. The man was ignoring Thomas’ manager, looking around with disgust. Thomas saw the men he had heard snickering giving each other nervous glances, their faces pale.

The man held up a hand, silencing the manager. 

“This place is unacceptable. If this is a normal look for this place or not, this place isn’t fit for food processing.” He said, looking around, his nose wrinkling in disgust. 

The manager’s face was red, his lips pulled back in a snarl as he tried to bite his tongue, not wanting to say the wrong thing for the first time in his life. “We didn’t get no calls about any inspection.”

“That’s why it’s called a surprise inspection.” The man said, glancing around at the workers. His eyes fell on Thomas, and his frown deepened for a moment before he glanced back at the manager. “Let’s continue this chat in your office.”

They walked into the office, but the sounds of yelling were only barely muffled by the walls. The workers started cleaning, everyone realizing what this foreboding feeling in the air probably meant. 

A while later the man left, but not before giving the plant one last disgusted look. Everyone continued cleaning quietly as the manager stepped out of his office, his face red, a scowl on his perpetually angry face.

“Don’t fuckin’ bother!” He shouted, making even Thomas jump. Everyone turned to their manager, everyone praying for goof news but knowing there would be none. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. “Due to the state of our business, they’re shutting us down in the span of a week. We’re done.” He threw up his hand like he was throwing away the thought. “We got a week to get our affairs in order, so I suggest y’all start looking for new jobs.”

Though the workers had already been silent, the moment the words exited his mouth, it was as if a whole new kind of silence fell over the plant. Not just the absence of words but the absence of breath, as if everyone there was frozen, each of them realizing what this would mean for them. 

One of the men broke the silence by running to a window, throwing it open, and throwing up. Others continued cleaning as if they hadn’t heard anything. Others started talking among each other, talking about what this meant.

“What do we do now?” Someone asked.

The manager threw up his hand again, walking to the exit. “You’ll be paid for this next week, so do whatever you want.”

Thomas felt like he was sinking into the ground. He looked around, panic clouding his mind. His hands were shaking. He looked up to see that some of the men were going home. He couldn’t go home. How could he ever explain this to his family? He was the only one who could make any money. 

He leaned on the wall, his breathing speeding up. This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. 

Slowly, he turned back to his station, walking back to it. He picked up his cleaver, and he got a piece of meat, and he started chopping. Maybe if he kept working, then all of this would turn out to not be true. Maybe if he just kept working. It was what he was good for.


	16. Beginnings

It was the day. The day everything was shut down. No one had seen or heard anything from you in the week since the announcement went out. Not that anyone paid it any mind, they were too busy searching for new jobs and getting in contact with relatives in other states for a place to live. 

The town was in a strange state of transition; from town to ghost town. Most of the other workers didn’t bother coming to work after that first day. They were too busy trying to get their affairs in order. Thomas was the only one who still came to work religiously. 

In that empty warehouse he would stand at his station and chop meat like he was being paid to do, the singular sound of his cleaver hitting meat and wood reverberating off of the walls. It was as if he was haunting the place in its last days. Somewhere around him he could hear people whispering, probably packing up and mumbling to each other about how Thomas was too stupid to understand what was happening. Either that, or it was the health inspector men making sure everything was closed securely.

Every day he hoped that he would see you. That you would be there with that racing brain of yours yammering on about a new scheme to fix everything. Every single day he hoped that you would show up, at least to see him. After all, you’d liked him, didn’t you? You wouldn’t just leave him with so much as a goodbye while this hometown died around him, would you?

As each day passed and there was no sign of you, that hope died a little more. But all he could do was go to work. If he went home all he would hear would be the sounds of his mama panicking and going on while Charlie swore and drank himself dumb, while Monty would just watch TV and pretend nothing was happening. 

Outside, he heard the sound of a stake being hammered into the ground. Probably the condemned sign. Shortly after he heard a gate shut and lock. 

He wanted to blame you. If you hadn’t tried to change things then those men wouldn’t have dumped blood all over the place, and they wouldn’t have been closed down. Sure, the food plant was disgusting before, but they had never been condemned because of it. Thomas wanted to hate you with everything he had. But on some level, he knew it wasn’t because he blamed you for the plant getting shut down. He wanted to hate you because you abandoned him just like everyone else.

It was his birthday today.

And here he was, celebrating by working in a plant that was being shut down all around him.

He slammed his cleaver down on the meat, not flinching when liquid sprayed back on him. He did it over and over, his wrist beginning to get sore from the force in which he was hitting it. It was all he could do.

“What’s that diseased freak still doing out here?” Thomas heard his manager say from somewhere. Thomas could hear everything now that he was the only thing in the building still making noise. “We closed for good now.”

“Uh, I think he likes it here, sir.” Some other voice said timidly.

Thomas ripped a chunk of meat in half, slamming the pieces down. Didn’t they know he was losing more than them because of this? His family wasn’t well, and he could never get another job looking the way he did. Thomas had only gotten a job in this town because the people were used to him. 

“Ain’t any reason for that beast to still be here. Jess, get that oversized-.” Thomas slammed the cleaver down harder than he had all day so he wouldn’t have to hear the word he knew was coming next. “-the hell out of here.”

“Me, sir?” The smaller man squeaked. 

“Just you.” The manager said. Thomas had always hated him. With his huge glasses and sour face and everything else about him. Thomas hated him. He hated him. You might have abandoned him, but this guy had made Thomas’ life a living hell since the moment he was born.

The timid man’s footsteps started echoing through the building. He was walking slowly, obviously he was terrified of Thomas. Well, good. Maybe he should be. Maybe Thomas should have worked a lot harder to make people scared of him.

“H-Hewitt. We shut down the place today. You know it because I done told you.”

Thomas ignored him, continuing to cut the meat, pretending it was the body of every fucking citizen of this town that had ever made him miserable. 

“We’re shutting down for good?” The way the man’s voice upwardly fluxed made it sound like he was asking a question. “We ain’t packin’ no more meat. We ain’t killin’ no more animals, so, you just leave the equipment. Just get on home now, okay?”

Thomas didn’t want to go home. 

The footsteps stopped somewhere behind Thomas, the squirrely man gathering his courage.

“You gotta go, I said!” The small man said, annoyance finally giving him the strength he needed. “You gotta get the hell out of here you dumb animal!”

That was what finally stopped Thomas. He turned, holding the cleaver tight in his hand. The man gasped, his eyes going wide as he realized what he had said. Thomas slowly walked over, his breath heavy from working so hard. The man looked like he was about to faint. He backed up as Thomas squeezed the cleaver, his entire arm tensing. He could do it, he could do it and who was there to stop him?

“HEY!” An angry voice cut through the tension as Thomas dropped the cleaver.

The only three men left in the plant turned to see you in the entryway, your clothes disheveled and your hair a mess, a look of pure rage on your face. Thomas had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

You stormed over, glaring the man down. “Who the fuck do you think you’re talking to, huh? The hardest worker in the entire damn down and you think you can just talk to him that way?” You got between them, pointing your finger in the man’s face, your eyes wide with fury. “I will fucking kill you, I swear to god, I’ll fucking kill you, and your mom, and-!”

“Hey, bitch!” The manager yelled, walking down the steps from his office. “You ain’t the owner anymore, so where the hell do you get off comin’ here?”

“I’ll make your life a living hell!” You shrieked, jabbing your finger at him. “It was your men who fucked this place over!”

Thomas – though only a moment earlier he had been as angry as you were now – wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the ground and slowly backing you up out of the door. Seeing you that angry on his behalf – hell, seeing you at all – calmed him just enough to be the peacemaker. 

You, on the other hand, kept flailing and kicking your legs in the direction of the man, screaming profanities, matching the manager curse for curse. Only after Thomas pulled you out of the plant and the sunlight hit your face did your flailing finally slow, though you continued to scream insults through the open door. 

He pulled you over to your car, setting you down on the trunk where the two of you had sat together the night of your first date. He felt the corner of his mouth tug up into a smile behind his mask. He was still angry at you, but the fact of the matter was that you were still here.

You looked up at him, your cheeks pink from yelling. Your lip trembled as you inhaled, looking away and then back at him. “I, uh, went to your house this morning.” You said. “Your uncle cussed me out pretty bad. And, um, I figured you’d be here.”

Thomas nodded slightly, kneeling down in front of you, putting his hands on your knees.

As you looked him over, you giggled a bit, but your voice was strained. “You’re so dirty.”

He nodded slightly, gently squeezing your knees to make sure that you were really there. You took off your jacket, wiping off his arms.

“So dirty.” You laughed again, but the laugh broke off into a gasp that sounded more like sob. Your eyes welled up as you tried to wipe off the blood and other fluids from Thomas’ skin, your lips pressing into a line as you tried to suppress your tears.

All he could do was watch silently, his heart sinking as the rush from getting to see you once last time died off. He was unemployed, his family refused to leave this town, nothing was fixed.

“This is how we met.” You choked out, sniffing as you started rubbing your jacket against his forehead. “Remember?”

Thomas nodded. Of course he remembered. He’d thought about it every night since. 

“I tried.” You were crying openly now, but you refused to abandon your task of cleaning him. “I called the health people, and they remembered me! They remembered me because I went to them asking about cleaning, but they didn’t care!” You started dusting off his clothes as if they could get rid of all the stains on them. “I’ve been glued to the phone all week trying to fix this, I promise I’ve been trying so hard!”

He grabbed your wrists, stopping you from fixing him up. He slowly pulled you off the car, and you fell into his lap, straddling him. He looked at your wrists, which looked so small in his hands. He laid back into the grass, pulling you onto his chest.

You tried to stop crying, looking at him in confusion. “Thomas?”

Sighing softly, he wrapped his arms around you, holding you in place. He buried his face in your hair, all kinds of thoughts swirling in his head. Some were good – the ones that revolved around you being here. Most were bad. He was still so angry, he was always at least a little angry, it was always there in the back of his mind. 

Everything seemed to be so hard all of the time. Holding you in the middle of all this chaos made it just a little easier. Just a little.

'Let me hold you here a minute longer.' He thought to himself, burying his face in your hair. He felt tears prick at his eyes, but he forced them down. 'It’s my birthday.'


	17. A Question

He felt himself breathing out in a sigh. There was orange on the other side of his eyelids. It took him a moment to realize that he was waking up. His body felt like lead. He forced his eyes to flutter open, looking around in mild confusion. 

“You’re up?” You whispered from somewhere behind him.

Thomas turned to see that his head was resting on your lap. Your fingers were lazily running through his hair, your back to a tree. Thomas didn’t remember changing positions or falling asleep, but apparently you had taken it upon yourself to use your lap for his pillow. 

He knew he probably needed rest. Over the last week he had barely slept at all, fear of the future making him toss and turn all night. He’d probably passed out when you were on his chest. He breathed out heavily, letting his eyes close, not ready to face the real world again.

You continued running your hands through his hair, the heat from the sun wearing you out. You’d almost fallen asleep yourself if it wasn’t for the feeling of Thomas shifting awake. Your brain kept spiraling, trying to find a solution when you knew there was none. Then it went to Stockton, another place that had died all around you, the home you had loved and lost. And now Thomas was going through the same thing.

The worst part was, it felt like it was your fault. It felt like the closing of the plant could be traced back to you. You didn’t smear blood over every surface of the plant, but it had been done to spite you. One spiteful thing from some men you didn’t even know, and a whole town was dead.

What made your blood run cold was the thought that Thomas might blame you as much as you were blaming yourself. 

“It’s your birthday today, isn’t it?” You mumbled, wrapping a piece of his hair around your finger. 

Thomas nodded slightly, opening his eyes again and looking up at you. His expression had lost all anger and fight after his nap. Now he just looked exhausted. 

“Happy birthday.” Your voice cracked, your eyes tearing up as you spoke. “I’m so sorry, Thomas.”

He slowly rose to sitting position, shrugging a shoulder in defeat. You reached out your hand, gently squeezing his. He lazily flexed his fingers back, looking in the direction of his home. You knew that he was thinking about his family, about what would happen to them. He probably wasn’t thinking of himself, about what all of this meant for him at all.

Moving closer to him, you put your other hand on his arm, getting his attention. His eyes slowly turned to you, his movements heavy with the weight of the world.

“Thomas.” You whispered, propping yourself up by sitting on your feet so the two of you would be closer to eye to eye. “Do you want to meet my family?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, not expecting that of all things to come out of your mouth. 

“I mean, I guess…” You sighed, trying to get your rushing thoughts together. “I met your family, and I still want to be with you, if you don’t hate me now. And maybe you can pack up your things and come home with me? And you can meet everyone, and maybe we could buy a house together, or we could travel like I’ve always wanted to do, and maybe we’ll build a life together.” You looked down at your lap, feeling your proposal fall flat. “And maybe we’ll be happy no matter where we end up.”

Thomas just stared at you, his brows beginning to knit in what you could only hope was confusion and not disgust. You looked away, willing yourself not to cry. He did hate you now, didn’t he? It only made sense, if you hadn’t tried to play the boss then none of this would have happened.

Meanwhile, your words were echoing in Thomas’ head. He had been so worried about his family, he hadn’t thought about what he would do for the rest of his life. He almost felt like he wouldn’t have a life the moment the plant closed down.

Leaving with you. How often had Thomas dreamed of leaving this town before he realized that he was all his family had? It had been an almost daily fantasy until he was old enough to start working. And he would be with you. 

But what about his family? He was responsible for them, he was the only thing that kept them from starving, it was his job to take care of them. He couldn’t just leave them, even if they refused to leave this dead town. 

He sat there in thought for so long that it took him a minute to realize that you were sniffing beside him. Thomas snapped out of his stupor to look over at you, noticing that your eyes were red and wet. He wanted to kick himself. How long had he sat here unresponsive?

Thomas squeezed your hand, getting your attention. You looked up, trying to keep the tears from leaving your eyes. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.” You whispered; your voice hoarse as you tried to collect yourself. 

Shaking his head, Thomas shifted so he was in front of you, pulling off his mask. You looked at him in confusion, unsure what he was doing. He set his mask off to the side, glancing back at you. He looked so vulnerable without it.

He wetted his lips with his tongue, swallowing nervously. His eyes met yours, and he slowly began mouthing something, his voice coming through in more of a raspy breath. It didn’t sound like words, but you could read his lips.

I love you.

You looked at him, your mouth open slightly in shock. Of all things, you would never have expected that – not when you blamed yourself for him losing his job. 

Thomas didn’t give you another moment to second guess him. His strong hands gently gripped your shoulders, pulling you to him, kissing you softly. Though you were still surprised, you kissed him back, putting your hands on his knees to steady yourself.

He pulled back for a second for air, scanning your face before kissing you again, harder this time. You felt him slowly push you back, and you allowed him to push you until your back was against the ground. Thomas hovered over you, his lips staying firmly on yours. 

“Tommy?” You murmured against his lips. His lips stayed on yours, making you giggle softly, pressing your hand against his chest. “Tommy?” You tried again.

Finally, he pulled away, leaving only an inch of space between the two of you. 

“Does that mean yes?” You smiled, running your hands up his chest.

For a long, terrifying moment, Thomas was still. He pressed his lips together, apparently still on the fence. Until he nodded his head.

Your face lit up, grinning so widely it made your cheeks ache. Thomas chuckled at your expression, resting his forehead on yours. You snaked your arms around his neck, pulling him into another kiss.


	18. Luda Mae

“Are you sure you want this, Tommy?” You mumbled, gripping onto his hand. 

Thomas nodded, squeezing your hand back. The two of you stood in front of his house, both of you trying to find the courage to go inside. You were especially nervous because you knew that it would be your job to tell his family that you would be taking Thomas with you. Worse yet, Charlie had already cussed you out earlier that day when you went to the house looking for Thomas. So, even if Thomas didn’t blame you, his uncle sure did.

“No time like the present.” You mumbled, taking the first step forward. Thomas walked with you, opening the door and walking inside. 

You clung to his arm when you entered, swallowing nervously. Thomas lead you into the kitchen, where he heard his mama cleaning. You tried to his behind him without making it obvious that you were doing so as she looked up to see the two of you.

Luda Mae’s eyes narrowed slightly at the sight of you – evidently she blamed you for the plant shutting down too. But her expression softened when she saw you clinging to her son’s arm.

“Tommy.” She said. “I was getting worried. It’s late.”

Thomas nodded slowly. He glanced over at you, smiling nervously. You knew that was your que to start.

“Um, I-um, we’re here to tell you that Thomas and I are going to visit my family. And well, maybe get a house together near where my family lives.” You stammered, so nervous your fingers felt like they were asleep. “Or, maybe travel together. I don’t know, I thought we’d figure it out after step one, which was him meeting my family.”

You hugged his arm tighter, looking at your feet. Luda Mae put her hands on her hips, looking between the two of you. She raised her eyebrow slightly, focusing her gaze on Thomas.

As she looked at her son, she felt a certain reluctance to let him go. She knew that he was the true caretaker in the family, she knew that everyone needed him at home. On the other hand, she never truly thought that he would find someone who cared for him like you did. And he deserved love, he deserved it so much, just like he had deserved a lot of things that he didn’t get in his poor life.

Luda Mae looked between the two of you once more, you still not meeting her eyes. She looked at Thomas again and his eyes met her evenly, his expression nervous, but firm. She knew that expression, it was the same expression he had whenever he had to break up a fight between Charlie or Monty and someone in town. He was being your strength now. Just like he had been the family’s strength for so long.

“Okay.” She finally said. 

You blinked, looking up at her, and Thomas’ expression matched your disbelief. Luda Mae chuckled, walking over to the two of you, putting her hands around the both of you, pulling you into a hug. Thomas was the first to hug her back, his grip tight, shaking her from side to side with joy. You giggled, the shaking snapping you out of it, hugging the both of them. 

“Really?” You gasped into the hug, their combined strength making it hard for you to breathe.

“Every boy has to leave his mama someday.” Luda Mae pulled back, looking up at Thomas. “And thirty is probably a good enough age to start worrying about making your own family, don’t you think, Tommy?”

Your face heated up and you giggled, looking away. Thomas raised his eyebrows at Luda Mae’s implication that the two of you would be having children on this journey. He cast a sideways glace over to you, making you gasp out a laugh and lightly swat at his arm.

“Thomas!” You pressed your lips together, hiding your grin. “We haven’t even talked about marriage, much less kids!”

He grinned mischievously, and Luda Mae made it worse by adding, “If you two come back here without at least one grandbaby I’m gonna be mighty disappointed.”

“Oh my god!” You giggled, putting your face in your hands.

Thomas pulled you into his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, still smiling. His face wasn’t used to smiling so much, it actually hurt his cheeks a bit. But he couldn’t stop! He was holding you in his arms, and he had his mama’s blessing to go off into the world and be happy with you. 

He could face the world, he could handle his skin disease. He could handle new people seeing him and judging him if you and your beautiful self were by his side, smiling that smile at him. If you loved him he could handle the cruelty of the world. Wherever he ended up with you, he could get a job and take care of you, and of any kids that might come along.

His cheeks warmed at the thought of children. He kissed your forehead, still keeping you tight in his arms, Luda Mae chuckling at the sight of him looking so soft. Children – and everything that lead up to them – he wanted it all, everything. 

You were the one to break the hug, smiling at Luda Mae. “Thank you.”

“He’s a grown man, Tommy can do as he pleases.” She replied, resting her hand on your shoulder. “Just promise you two won’t forget to visit us.”

“You guys are staying in this town?” You asked. “But, everyone is leaving.”

She nodded, looking into the hall. “Charlie and Monty don’t want to leave this old house. We’ll figure out howta get by.”

You wrung your hands together, looking up at Thomas. He just nodded, knowing that if Charlie and Monty agreed on something, they would be impossible to sway. 

“Well, I need to pack.” You took Thomas’ hand, giving it a squeeze. “You should pack too. I’ll call my family and let them know that I’m bringing someone important home.”

He nodded, pulling you into another hug. Luda Mae took the opportunity to hug the both of you again as he did. 

“When are you going?” She asked.

“Well, my hotel is pretty much shut down except for one angry employee waiting for me to check out.” You pulled away, pushing some hair behind your ear. “Would tonight be too soon?”

Luda Mae sighed, looking over at Thomas. “It would give you enough time to say goodbye to everyone.”

Thomas nodded slightly, nervousness finally finding its way into his belly. This was really happening. He’d never been parted from his family before in his life. He looked over at you, and you smiled. 

“I’ll go pack.” You got up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, heading out of the kitchen and out to your car, giddy excitement bringing a bounce to yourself. 

Thomas looked over to his mama, pulling her into another hug. He hugged him back tightly, resting her head on his shoulder. 

“I’m so proud of you baby.” She murmured, petting his back gently. “Now you better make an honest woman out of her.”

He blew air out his nose in response, burying his face in her hair.

“I’ll miss you so much.” She felt tears prick at her eyes. “But I’m happy, Tommy.”

Nodding, he continued to hold his mama for a long time, until he heard someone walking into the house. Judging by the footsteps, it was Charlie. Luda Mae finally broke the hug, patting Thomas’ arm.

“I’ll help you tell them.” She said softly. “After that, you need to get ready to leave.”

Thomas nodded, allowing his mama to take his hand, leading him into the hall to see a drunk Charlie leaning against the wall. It was obvious he had been drinking his anger at the town situation away. 

“Charlie, I got somethin’ to tell ya.” Luda Mae said.


	19. END

“Are you sure about all this, boy?” Charlie asked, leaning against the wall as Thomas gathered up his essentials. Lucky for Thomas, he never had much in the way of possessions, so packing was turning out to be easy, though the fear of leaving something important behind was plaguing him.

Thomas looked back at his uncle and nodded, looking over what he had so far. Some clothes, a few leatherworking tools, and that was pretty much it. At least he wouldn’t take up much space in your car.

“Then that’s all I needed to hear.” Charlie looked around the room. He’d never spent much time in Thomas’ room. He’d known Thomas was a creative kid, but he’d never really realized just how much Thomas had in the way of art pieces. “You should get out of this shithole while you got the chance.”

“And you ain’t ever doing better than an heiress.” Monty pipped up from the hallway where he’d been hovering, expecting a fight to break out at any time and almost disappointed that Thomas’ leaving was taking place without any theatrics. 

“Monty, don’t you talk like that.” Luda Mae slapped his arm, also waiting with bated breath in the hall.

Charlie smirked, looked over his shoulder at them. “Monty, don’t go actin’ like you ain’t gonna miss him.”

“I am.” Monty stepped forward, a grin on his face. “But I’m more happy that he got such a nice catch.” Monty walked over to Thomas, leaning in and stage whispering. “Better knock ‘er up when you get the chance.”

Thomas glared at him, and Luda Mae shot over to his side and slapped his arm again. “He will do no such thing ‘til they are married!”

Charlie laughed while Thomas chuckled awkwardly. As their whole small family stood there in his room, chuckling and bickering, Thomas began to feel misty. His family had been his whole life since he was a little kid. They hadn’t been perfect, but they were his, and he loved them with everything he had.

The thought that he was leaving made him want to cry. He breathed out slowly to steady himself before zipping up his bag. Charlie noticed Thomas’ misty eyes and for once in his life looked away, feeling the threat of tears himself. 

“We’re gonna miss ya.” Charlie mumbled.

Thomas nodded, pressing his lips together.

“Come on, it’s not like he’ll never come back.” Monty got between them, slapping them both on their backs. “He’ll visit!”

Thomas sniffed, wiping his nose on the back of his hand.

“Don’t go cryin’, boy.” Charlie tried to sound tough, but the crack in his voice gave him away.

“Tommy!” Luda Mae was the first to openly cry, rushing into Thomas’ arms and crying into his chest. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do without my boy!”

Charlie sniffed, his eyes overflowing as he blinked. “Don’t go sayin’ stuff like that.” He joined Luda Mae and Thomas, hugging them tightly. “You’ll make him not wanna leave!”

Monty chuckled, but his voice sounded strained as he joined in on the hug as well. “Yer all a bunch of damn fools, cryin’ over a grown man moving out.”

The four of them stayed in the hug, the men trying to hold back their tears as much as they could while Luda Mae wept openly. Each one of them was waiting for someone else to break the hug first, but no one did. In the case of Charlie, Monty, and Thomas, none of them could even remember the last time they had hugged each other. 

It was finally broken when there was a knock on the front door. They finally untangled from their group hug, Thomas wiping his eyes in embarrassment. Charlie coughed and looked away and Monty adjusted his shirt collar though there was nothing wrong with it. Luda Mae wiped the tears off her cheeks, smiling at her son.

“I think that means it’s time for you to go, Tommy.” She smiled, squeezing his arm.

Thomas nodded and picked up his suitcase, walking to the front door, the rest of his family in tow. They stayed back as he opened up the front door to reveal you.

You were smiling, bouncing on the balls of your feet nervously. “Hi, Thomas.”

He smiled in reply. Your face fell when you saw his family behind him, especially when you noticed Charlie, who had cussed you out earlier that morning. 

Charlie noticed, stepping forward and taking a deep breath. “Let me just say, sorry. Sorry for cussin’ at ya.”

You nodded slightly, your body language screaming at he still made you nervous. 

“You should be happy.” Luda Mae pipped up, laughing and putting her hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “He never apologizes.”

They tittered and you smiled, nodding slightly. “Well, I’m glad, then.” You looked up at Thomas, your smile turning more genuine. “Are you ready?”

Thomas nodded, turning back to his family. He smiled and nodded to them, wishing he had the words to say everything that he was feeling, but there was too much even if he wasn’t mute. He breathed in, smelling the familiar scent of his old house one last time. He looked at the faces of his family, each of them showing different levels of sadness and joy for his parting. 

He reached out, pulling Luda Mae into one last hug, kissing the top of her head. She squeezed him as tightly as her little old arms would allow, and he nodded over her head to Charlie and Monty, who nodded back.

Luda Mae pulled away, looking over to you and smiling. “Take care of my boy.”

“I will, I promise he’ll be happy.” Thomas took your hand, and you squeezed it tightly. 

Thomas was the first one to move towards the car, gently pulling you along. ‘Goodbyes’ came from the house, his family already waving as he put his bag in the trunk and got in the passenger’s seat. You sat in the driver’s side, starting up the car again as he buckled his seatbelt.

You breathed out, looking over at him. “Ready, Tommy?”

He looked over at you, admiring the curve of your lips, and the shape of your eyes, and any other detail he could notice. Thomas knew he’d get to see your face every day for a long time, but he still wanted to memorize how you looked right now, in this moment. He reached over, fixing a stray hair that was lying across your forehead. 

Finally he nodded, grinning at the realization that this was really happening. No more fear, or uncertainty. You wanted him to meet your family and start a life with him.

You smiled, backing out of the driveway, the sky orange as the sun started its decent. “I can’t wait for you to meet everyone.”

He looked back at his house, waving back to his family, who were now all on the porch, still waving the two of you off. You waved at them too before turning your attention back to the road, flipping down the visor to block the sun from getting in your eyes. 

Thomas finally looked away from his home as it was blocked from his sight. Instead he turned towards the empty road that spanned out in front of the car. He, Thomas Hewitt, had a future. And – for the first time in his life – he realized that he had a good one in store for him.


End file.
